A time there was — as one may guess And as, indeed, earth’s testimonies tell — Before the birth of consciousness, When all went well. None suffered sickness, love, or loss, None knew regret, starved hope, or heartburnings; None cared whatever crash or cross Brought wrack to things.
If something ceased, no tongue bewailed, If something winced and waned, no heart was wrung; If brightness dimmed and dark prevailed, No sense was stung.
But the disease of feeling germed, And primal rightness took the tinct of wrong; Ere nescience shall be reaffirmed How long, how long?