Authority

Launched upon ether float the worlds secure. Naught hath the truthful Maker to conceal. No trestle-work of adamant or steel Is that high firmament where these endure. Patient, majestic, round their cynosure In secular procession see them wheel; Self-poised, but not self-centred; for they feel In each tense fibre one all-conquering lure. And need I fret me, Father, for that Thou Dost will the weightiest verities to swing On viewless orbits? Nay, henceforth I cleave More firmly to the Credo; and my vow With readier footstep to thine altar bring, As one who counts it freedom to believe.