With this, as little as it seems, can one
Work wonders! build up cities, plough the waste,
Alter customs and laws, and change the taste
Of nations, set up thrones and pluck them down!
What privilege then claims it as its own?
Or what strange subjects neath its sway are placed,
That thus with a few strokes can be effaced--
Things grey as time, familiar as the sun?
Men's thoughts! these move all! act but on the thought
And will of man, and then the lever by
Which mightiest revolutions have been wrought
Is in thy one weak hand! lost to man's eye.
Perhaps, like God, by few or known or sought
Those with two fingers movest the world's machinery!