What Is Man
What is man, his flesh got without assent,
Or the broad brushstrokes of his star filled mind.
Neither will sit for another's judgement.
One is chance, the other of boundless kind.
Perhaps man is his actions, though so oft
They go wrong or are unintended acts.
And desires remain surfeit or un-soft
Propel rash deeds, dark thoughts and sordid pacts.
If action alone can not define man
For marred by accident; then is intent
The mark to judge. But intent is more wan
Than acts, for can only be guessed at bent.
What is man, neither flesh nor mind, if not
Whom he loves and for whom his hate is hot.
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