Travail

CREATION like a fair

Offers all things

From a childs toy to the suns

Space-haunted wings

To our bound mortality.

Our dream of a life

Tasting the in
nite bliss

Seems but a brief

Thought-mist dying away

Beyond days edge:

For soon there follows Nights

Dragon image

That grips within its claws

The seed of light,

Till an omnipotence

Crowned with a white

Immortal memory

Comes to awake

From frozen somnolence

The germinal streak.

Then the coiled serpent-
re

Rises again

Into its rapturous heaven

Without a strain

Of times ame-wavering mood,

And a new birth

Begins from the travail

Of aspiring earth.

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