Pith & Grain

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Pith & Grain

Poem — An Invocation to the Master #288

Oh how poorly effulgent is Knowledge’s Sun,
A mere million rays cast out in profuse vanity,
All petty knowings of what the Maker has done
And the scope of His vast and minute artistry.

Mind, that boisterous fool in flush of thought,
Donning the world with sense of its dreams
Sees doom in flower fall and a ghost in mist,
Oh the dumb charm in mind’s easy excesses.

And Vital, the bargainer most excellent 
For trinket of feeling and senses deceiving,
Long labourer for a burst of red hot lust,
Passion spent, on its loss always pondering.

But the heart, oh that heart like a maiden pining,
Virgin and virtuous, a song is in each blush,
A lamp with a most beauteous flame burning
Of glorious love, undying, immortally fresh.

Make a cord of that love-flame and bind me whole
To Thee the pith and grain of my body and soul.