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101
A RECOMMENDATION
Behind the Nebula there lives
In loneliness, we bravely think,
An Overseer, who constant gives
Our feet direction to the brink
Of Death, that we may slip our shell,
As butterfly the chrysalis,
And in another kingdom tell
The truth we failed to tell in this.
In loneliness, we bravely think,
An Overseer, who constant gives
Our feet direction to the brink
Of Death, that we may slip our shell,
As butterfly the chrysalis,
And in another kingdom tell
The truth we failed to tell in this.
Perhaps the Master planned it so;
And yet the thought may be a dream
Among the many dreams that go
As halves of shadow and of gleam
In front of us. For fear we miss
New life when Death has laid us flat,
Suppose we learn to do in this
The good we hope to do in that.
And yet the thought may be a dream
Among the many dreams that go
As halves of shadow and of gleam
In front of us. For fear we miss
New life when Death has laid us flat,
Suppose we learn to do in this
The good we hope to do in that.
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