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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
108
UNQUALIFIED
Not his the part to win the goal,
The flaming goal that flies before,
Into whose course the apples roll
Of self that stay the feet the more.
The flaming goal that flies before,
Into whose course the apples roll
Of self that stay the feet the more.
Beyond himself he shall not win
Whose aim is as a driven dust,
That his own soul must wander in,
Seeing no farther than his lust.
Whose aim is as a driven dust,
That his own soul must wander in,
Seeing no farther than his lust.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |