Poetry Archives

How may one hold these days of wonderment
 And bind them into stillness with a thong,
 Ere as a fleeting dream they pass along
Into the waste of lovely things forspent;
How may one keep what the Great Powers have sent,
 The prayers fulfilled more beautiful and strong
 Than any thought could fashion into song
Of all the rarest harmonies inblent?

There is an Altar where they may be laid
 And sealed in Faith within Its sacred care,—
  Here they are safe unto the very end;
For these are of the things that never fade,
 Brought from the City that is built four-square,
  The gifts of Him who is the Perfect Friend.