An Epithaliamium

 So Man, grown vigorous now,
 Holds himself ripe to breed,
 Daily devises how
 To ejaculate his seed
 And boldly fertilize
The black womb of the unconsenting skies.

 Some now alive expect
 (I am told) to see the large,
 Steel member grow erect,
 Turgid with the fierce charge
 Of our whole planet's skill,
Courage, wealth, knowledge, concentrated will,

 Straining with lust to stamp
 Our likeness on the abyss-
 Bombs, gallows, Belsen camp,
 Pox, polio, Thais' kiss
 Or Judas, Moloch's fires
And Torquemada's (sons resemble sires).

 Shall we, when the grim shape
 Roars upward, dance and sing?
 Yes: if we honour rape,
 If we take pride to Ring
 So bountifully on space
The sperm of our long woes, our large disgrace.