Poems by Themis

Perspective

Beyond the unperspected horizons is nothing;

Don't lie still, unsuspecting, dear;

Sit up or twist yourself into a posture

to picture the world straight;

Let the nerves storm, the bones grate,

the thought-curves gripe awry,

the wrench-twirls cry and torture, —

Till the whirl of blood tincture moods

aright; give themes their proper shade and colour,

discover all proportions — proper, unselfish,

right-toned.

They say, man becomes centre and measure of all

his gaugings, and self-centred, self-cinctured,

self-caged,

ventures to encounter Sun-Truth —

Sit up, though the limbs ache and hiss

their agony; sit up and see

with chastened eyes the starlit order;

Fling the girdle of your dances over

seas and mountains; meet

sunbeam and rain-beat

with the same God-mood; the horizon, dear,

is nothing; and all our beyond is here.

Page 70