EMILY MONDAY

#680

Each Life Converges to some Centre —

Expressed — or still —

Exists in every Human Nature

A Goal —

Embodied scarcely to itself — it may be —

Too fair

For Credibility’s presumption

To mar —

Adored with caution — as a Brittle Heaven —

To reach

Were hopeless, as the Rainbow’s Raiment

To touch —

Yet persevered toward — sure — for the Distance —

How high —

Unto the Saint’s slow diligence —

The Sky —

Ungained — it may be — by a Life’s low Venture —

But then —

Eternity enable the endeavoring

Again.