Unstooping by Walter de la Mare

 Unstooping

Low on his fours the Lion
  Treads with the surly Bear;
But Men straight upward from the dust
  Walk with their heads in air;
The free sweet winds of heaven,
  The sunlight from on high
Beat on their clear bright cheeks and brows
  As they go striding by;
The doors of all their houses
  They arch so they may go
Uplifted o'er the four-foot beasts,
  Unstooping, to and fro.