You have moved in love to others,
	  To new unnull pursuits you go
	  In restless faith those whiter flows
Follow you to fuller waters.

My faith's poorer, my grasp infirm
	  Upon the tugging rudder
	  That guides me to my uttermost;
I fear I sail far more in harm

Than in health.  Where is your dear hand
	  Steady on the trembling tiller?--
	  Steering clear to vaster endeavors
Beyond horizons, past sight of land.

Where I go's no more than where I am,
	  Nor faith nor hope proffer roses
	  To blank the claims of fear's supposes,
Or dare me greater be than man.

May bride and child and wealth be yours
	  And all the winnings dreams suggest,--
	  If I were but an infrequent guest
I'd deem myself the treasurer.

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Poems in pieces

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