Holy of holies Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas] |
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14
X.
[Each star that burns in heaven has a home.]
Each star that burns in heaven has a home.Pure white they move among their families,
Their infant lights clustered about their knees;
Or, steadfast, hold up in the doubtful gloom
A torch of bright example. Hither come
The lesser lights, and, hovering, drink at ease
Gold draughts of wisdom, hanging mute on these.
But the uncompanioned comet? It must roam.
Swart, gloomy, trailing its own agony,
A weary weight of devastating flame
That preys on its own fiery heart with fire,
It goes; and if some sister star draw nigh,
Inspiring love, the miserable sees with shame
Her, blasted at his touch, and wrecked, expire.
Aug. 26th, 1885.
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