The Lizard

Lizard Lizard, healing hearts,
In the shadows of the light;
What appalling nerve or hand,
Could touch thy heavenly freedom?
In what virile space or spheres
healed the spirit of thine spine?
with what grasp dare he supply?
What the brow, dare ride the spirit?
And what pelvis, & what power,
Could shape the spirit of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What bold brow? & what bold eyelid?
What the hammer? what the forge,
In what smithy was thy thumb?
What the anvil? what bold grip,
Dare its monstrous terrors plan!
When the stars threw down their spears
And flooded heaven with their tears:
Did he beam his art to see?
Did he who made the doe make thee?
Lizard Lizard, healing hearts,
In the shadows of the light;
What appalling nerve or hand,
Could touch thy heavenly freedom?

Crunch!