Classic Poem

This memory-laden star that winds
Through space her wistful ways,
Searching for that she not yet finds
In all her yesterdays —
She is a troubled thought whose quest,
Gone forth among the spheres,
Shall never know delight nor rest,
Nor respite from her fears,
But still veer on through void and flame,
And still expectant yearn,
Till with her prize to whence she came,
She doth at length return.

The sun that lends her living light
To tell her gilded years,
The moon that lanterns her at night
To search among the spheres,
The starry hosts that wheel about
And watch her mazes wind,
Serve dumbly with nor dread nor doubt
That she one day will find —
That she one day will find the prize
They sent her forth to earn,
And with it through the waiting skies
Triumphantly return.