My wheel is in the dark!
I cannot see a spoke
Yet know its dripping feet
Go round and round.
My foot is on the Tide!
An unfrequented road—
Yet have all roads
A clearing at the end—
Some have resigned the Loom—
Some in the busy tomb
Find quaint employ—
Some with new—stately feet—
Pass royal through the gate—
Flinging the problem back
At you and I!
