Forever. The sidereal loneliness
Received him, where no journeying leaves the less
Still to be journeyed through: but everywhere,
Fast though you fly, the centre still is there.
4
And here the well-worn fabric of our life,
Fell from him. Hope and purpose were cut short,
—Even the blind trust that reaches in mid-strife
Towards some heart of things. Here blew the mort
For the world spirit herself. The last support