Ingenious, by its own massy weight
The invention to a priest
Relaxation, the languid frame
The new machine, some youthful grace
Has slackened to a pause
Then dwelt upon the scene
Penniless and far from home
These gifts of a squandered life
The dream -
Of distant floods
Upon loose pebbles
In matted grass
Betrays the secret -
In still repeating circles
That hails the rising Moon
A foliage of such dark
This poet's treasure
Waters from the crystal well
That miner of your Soul
That mimics works of art
Visions prompted by instense desires
This constant revolution
A mere pretender to the name
Philosophy - the eagles eye
Holds out to all ancient barriers
Unexampled, unexplained
While God performs
Within the trembling cities
With rigors of restraint
We the righteous
Counterfeit the motions of old achievements
Defective and unsanctioned
To a God yet not revealed
Humble learners
Of grace, knowledge, comfort
This last poor pittance
In this prison-house the world
That holds mankind  masked
Preparing for our ruin
Exposed - Peace, that memory
Crooked and twisted and deformed
Broken and decaying, society mourns

Gypsy