Frail Time-Piece

What do we know who are so lightly here?

Our sages and philosophers and saints

Have touched the hem of fleeting angel robes

Or grasped the feet of God in ecstasy,

But we who labour mid the sorrows and joys

Of our humanity, who briefly live

And love among the singing or silent spheres,

Who yearn for beauty as it passes by

And cannot hold for long the silver cup,

The chalice of our spirit's offering

But must obey the call of earthly needs

Desire and the want for petty things,

But still within the chrysalis of soul

Cry out for wisdom and beseech the light

To enter in these darkened mortal rooms,

Awake the sleeper in the cave of night,

To lift his view beyond the faintest stars,

This frail time-piece that is from heaven hewn,

Ignorant and paltry and divine.