Vii

My first movement is belief in all things possible My second is distrust, all is fallible And it is glory A hero's story And I dance in my third like chaos, like nature Life is not what it is, it is that which is not sure And it is made And I unmade My forth is my epitaph, not to death but to love In breath and in being, like black wings on a dove And it is celestial Both rest and trail And complete, I stand before nothing and all And imperfect, I kneel before myself and call, "By heaven, why sand? This eternity demand!"