So reed-like fragile, in the world's whirl nought...

By Anne Whitney

So reed-like fragile, in the world's whirl nought,
Beggared in earthly hope, alone and bare, --
Heart pierced, wings clipped, feet bound, but grandly there,
Ay and with odds 'gainst Fate, thou standest, fraught
With courage to know all! -- Thus is thy lot
Worlds deep beneath thee. -- Lovest thou that keen air?
Thou ask'st not hope, nor may the falsely fair
Approach thy clear integrity of thought.
Such power, what shall we call it? For this time,
Not love, nor yet faith; but Eternity
Dilating the mean Day, -- the spirit, free
And self-reliant, from its purer clime
O'erruling earth, by spirit-law sublime --
God cleaving for thee the remorseless sea.