Holy of holies Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas] |
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13
IX.
[Yet pole, or polestar have a fixéd site]
Yet pole, or polestar have a fixéd siteAnd only by relation change in place
To the vexed mariner: but of thy sweet face
How shall I say it shines with constant light,
Being set in heaven so far out of my sight?
While the abundance of its bounteous grace
Perchance is now diffusèd over space,
Kindling the urns of countless lamps of night.
Again, I answer, as the needle knows
The polar fixity by its own sure sense
That, seeming fickle, its aims never veers:
Or by result. We trust the pole that shows
The safe path through the reefs and islets dense:
I thee, who guidest me through life's griefs and fears.
Aug. 7th, 1885.
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