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Love has
earth to which she clings
With hills and circling
arms about-
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But
Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a
pair of dauntless wings.
On snow and sand and
turf, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world's embrace.
And such is
Love and glad to be.
But Thought has shaken his
ankles free.
Thought cleaves the interstellar
gloom
And sits in Sirius' disc all night,
Till day
makes him retrace his flight,
With smell of burning
on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.
His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some
say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses
all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To
find fused in another star.
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