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I-V    VI-X     XI-XV    XVI-XX    XXI-XXV     XXVI-XXX    XXXI-XXXV
XXXVI-XL    XLI-XLV    XLVI-L    LI-LV     LVI-LX    LXI-LXV    LXVI-LXX     LXXI-LXXV

  Magellan's Log Copyright © 2001 Texas Chapbook Press
www.texaschapbookpress.com

LI.

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.


LII.

And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to IT for help--for It
Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.


LIII.

With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man's knead,
And then of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed:
Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.


LIV.

I tell Thee this--When, starting from the Goal,
Over the shoulders of the flaming Foal
Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtari they flung,
In my predestin'd Plot of Dust and Soul


LV.

The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about
It clings my Being--let the Sufi flout;
Of my Base Metal may be filed a Key,
That shall unlock the Door he howls without.