Compass

While lost awhile in this mystic garden
A breeze of that nostalgic longing hits
And those cold melancholy pangs harden
The careless joy of the one who now sits.
Long ago I rent my heart asunder
In the throes of love and love without end,
Although from that cage burst song and wonder,
I feel still strongly what remains to mend.
But high above such thoughts there hangs my star
And beneath my feet the path that I trust
Shall lead to unseen horizons so far
Those here and those there know not the same gust,
And certainly not that which hangs now here
Which I quit and towards star and path steer.

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This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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