The Poetry Corner

The Spur

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I asked the rock beside the road what joy existence lent. It answered, 'For a million years my heart has been content.' I asked the truffle-seeking swine, as rooting by he went, 'What is the keynote of your life?'He grunted out, 'Content.' I asked a slave, who toiled and sung, just what his singing meant. He plodded on his changeless way, and said, 'I am content.' I asked a plutocrat of greed, on what his thoughts were bent. He chinked the silver in his purse, and said, 'I am content.' I asked the mighty forest tree from whence its force was sent. Its thousand branches spoke as one, and said, 'From discontent.' I asked the message speeding on, by what great law was rent God's secret from the waves of space.It said, 'From discontent.' I asked the marble, where the works of God and man were blent, What brought the statue from the block.It answered, 'Discontent.' I asked an Angel, looking down on earth with gaze intent, How man should rise to larger growth.Quoth he, 'Through discontent.'