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First Line: Let be, my soul, fold your rebellious pinions
Last Line: Take their great captor for their changeless friend.
Alternate Author Name(s): Filsinger, Ernest B., Mrs.


Let be, my soul, fold your rebellious pinions,
There is no way out of the web of things,
It is a snare that never will be broken,
And if you struggle you will break your wings.

Be still a while, content to brood on beauty;
Caught in the trap of space that has no end,
See how the stars, august in their submission,
Take their Great Captor for their changeless friend.





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