all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man

Is blacken’d, Man’s Forgiveness give—and take!

Listen again. One evening at the Close

Of Ramazán, ere the better Moon arose,

   In that old Potter’s Shop I stood alone

With the clay Population round in Rows.

And, strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot

Some could articulate, while others not:

   And suddenly one more impatient cried—

“Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?”

Then said another—“Surely not in vain

My Substance from the common Earth was ta’en,

   That He who subtly wrought me into Shape

Should stamp me back to common Earth again.”

Another said—“Why, ne’er a peevish Boy,

Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy;

   Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love

And Fancy, in an after Rage destroy!”

None answer’d this; but after Silence spake

A Vessel of a more ungainly Make:

   “They sneer at me for leaning all awry;

What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?”