Classic Poem

We dream of circles vast, enlarging evermore,
And wheels that turn, perpetual as the moon,
And soundless seas, unhindered by a shore,
And one white day, forever at high noon.

But thou, the Void, what thought, flung into thee,
Can tremble downward through the darkness old
To find that point where nothing else can be
But shapeless space, and silence and the cold?

Comes the long Last, when with thy doom fulfilled,
The awful aeons, traveling sure and slow,
Take thee for spoil, and glorious light be spilled,
And seeds of worlds within thee float and grow.

We dream of circles vast, enlarging evermore,
And wheels that turn, perpetual as the moon,
And soundless seas, unhindered by a shore,
And one white day, forever at high noon.

But thou, the Void, what thought, flung into thee,
Can tremble downward through the darkness old
To find that point where nothing else can be
But shapeless space, and silence and the cold?

Comes the long Last, when with thy doom fulfilled,
The awful aeons, traveling sure and slow,
Take thee for spoil, and glorious light be spilled,
And seeds of worlds within thee float and grow.