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WORSHIP
How does it feel?—
The drawing of the magnet on the steel?
All else gives way;
No rivets hold, no bars delay,
Called in that overwhelming hour,
From far and near they fly and cling,
Allied, united, clustering;
And the great pulsing currents flow
Through each small scattered scrap below.
Scattered no more;
One with that all compelling core;
One absolute, one all alive with power.
How does it feel?—
The swift obedient utmost flight
Of radiant sky-wide waves of light,
Far couriers of the central sun,
Crossing a million miles as one—
Still going—going—
Limitless joy that needs no knowing
Each last least flickering ray
One with the Heart of Day.
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Next: MY ASTONISHING DODO