Classic Poem

One's sight is but as sunray light,
Youth's own evolved, sceptered way;
Truth does not remain, nor after day,
Nor through the bubble of senses bright.
O wind, thou blowest full breeze
O'er pregnant grains of fragrant scent
With thy mortal eyelid subduing, lent,
That blew the wafers, as candle might
Of flame renews forgetful inspiration
Into clouds. There child's pale laced orb
Of blue weeps into twilight, a coarser hue;
But no faded memory sustains thy rite,
Thou whose omnipresence leads to certainty;
And purity binds no thought where Jehovah after great!