I heard the merry grasshopper then sing. The black-clad cricket bear a second part; They kept one tune and played on the same string, Seeming to glory in their little art. Shall creatures abject thus their voices raise And in their kind resound their Maker's praise, Whilst I, as mute, can warble forth no higher lays? from Contemplations by Anne Bradstreet How do you interpret the theme of this poem?