Calcutta nr. 203
Oh potters who plunge hands into the clay
Skill & wisdom & intelligence you devote to that
Blows & kicks & thumps how long will you strike
You must think it is the dust of bad men.
Yon potter-fellows, that still have hand in clay,
Forget that it, too, had soul and sense one day:
Sure, they raust think 't was the clay of the bad, that thus
With kicks and buffets at it they pound away.