Poems By Arjava

WROUGHT by pencil or by unthinking lens,

A picture guards too well its midmost theme

Of puissant soul enclayed. Nor shall the pens

Of writers skilled in verse capture their dream

In any cage of words, even though they face

With bodily eye their dream's embodiment;

For eyes of flesh dazzle to mark the place

Where Truth's own light with rueful dust is blent.

Whether your body's form or shadowy trace

Of it be gazed upon, this heart will haste

To lift toward Light's abode its groping prayer ;

" Undying Beauty Who gleams upon the waste

Of our mortality, pierce us, enlace

Our clamorous night with Thy still thoroughfare."