Like a shining Fish Then it descends Into deep Water.
It is not given For goods or gear, But for The Thing.
The Gold I gather A King covets For an ill use.
The Gold I gather Is drawn up Out of deep Water.
Like a shining Fish Then it descends Into deep Water.
It is not given For goods or gear, But for The Thing.
A Centurion of the Thirtieth
Cities and Thrones and Powers Stand in Time's eye, Almost as long as flowers, Which daily die. But, as new buds put forth To glad new men, Out of the spent and unconsidered Earth, The Cities rise again.