CALLED to a new employ in boundless space, The lonely monad quits its 'customed place And from life's weary round contented flees. No more of passionate striving, will perverse And hampering obligations, long a curse: Free self-abandonment at last gives peace. Soul of the world, come pierce our being through! Across the drift of things our way to hew Is our appointed task, our noblest war. Good spirits by our destined pathway still Lead gently on, best masters of our will, Toward that which made and makes all things that are. To shape for further ends what now has breath, Let nothing harden into ice and death, Works endless living action everywhere. What has not yet existed strives for birth— Toward purer suns, more glorious-colored earth: To rest in idle stillness naught may dare. All must move onward, help transform the mass, Assume a form, to yet another pass; 'Tis but in seeming aught is fixed or still. In all things moves the eternal restless Thought; For all, when comes the hour, must fall to naught If to persist in being is its will. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS by ROBERT BURNS SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12 by THOMAS CAMPION JEFFERSON DAVIS by WALKER MERIWETHER BELL PSALM 139 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 34. REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE (1) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TO A.G.A. by EMILY JANE BRONTE TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. AFTER CIVILISATION by EDWARD CARPENTER |