John Weiss (1818–1879)

CENTRAL axis, pole of pole,

Central ark and goal of goal,

Worship, to whose sovereign end

All the spirit’s uses tend.

Taught of her high mystery,

Perfect will the man-child be.

Not with sorrow, not with moan

Comes the soul unto her own;

Not with sounding steps of thunder,

Not with flaming looks of fire,

But with calm delight and wonder,

Simple hope and sweet desire.

Then, through all the motions stealing

Of the manifold existence,

Ever lifting, soothing, healing,

Love attunes each thought and feeling

Unto patience and persistence.