On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth--
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth--
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth
And dead wings carried like a paper kite
What had that flower to do with being white
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small
1936
Does design = fate? Frost could be arguing that fate only applies to large things, or maybe only great men.  Fate only has control over the powerful and strong, the heroes of life. Does this mean that fate does not have control over common things, and is there not a certain freedom in being small?
Design