Nor books nor words can now suffice To wrest from mind its dominance And throne in seat supreme the Real Whose Truth this wounded world could heal.
O Poet, singing of flaming suns And flowers fading not by day Nor waters turning black by night On rapid wings draw near the light.
That all may see and lastly find The strength to cast this life away That hides so deep the child of Dawn. In womb of night while breaks the morn.
Poems Undated (1727)
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