73.

God has no favorites, plays no games with lives,

Healing our friends and hearing all our prayers,

Striking down all our enemies; nothing thrives

Contrary to the plans of God? -- who cares

For all her children, every one the same,

For every atom never mere compiled 

But celebrated, given its own name.

Something eternal, worthy in a child --

You've felt it too, like atmosphere perfume

Your home, intoxicate and drown your head.

I wonder what new forms we shall assume

When I fall drunk on love for all my dead.

She lets the cosmos stand, and binds her hands.

Our pain, our love, not whims that she commands.