Trust thou in she who would thy spirit lift;
For holdeth she thy course as straight and right,
Whose destinations found, with thee, delight–
This Hallowed ground from which thou shalt not drift.

Trust thou in she who is thy greatest gift;
For thee, thy darkened course would keep alight;
Whose only longing keepeth both from night;
And help thee right such wrongs when waters shift.

Thou canst not man thy tiller and thy spar;
Nor keep the watch and also plot thy course;
Nor man the pumps below and trim thy sail.
For shalt thou, on thy circle, travel far–
Much farther than alone wilt thou, perforce–
Alone, couldst not rejoice thou to prevail.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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