Will it be unfair to assist the wind

Will it be unfair to assist the wind
To cast dimensions on near fluent time
Or ask the clouds if its going to lend
Its ice to armor a long traveled line
Of prose and poetry; of earth and sea
Clear's the contrariety of white and black
Yet some has not learn, bequeath to react
Born back to the roots of the God-made tree
Ennobled by the sole, now solemn rhyme
Remembered through the grace of many graders
Who has not committed impudent crimes
To the arts of those great, assayed etchers
Now belittled 'though huge of all their works
Still guide the naïve, but nettle the not
The free is modeled by presumptuous youth
Lawless and metered: all whole and all part
Sure there is light on this seeming all night:
What are these hands for if never to write?