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<br/>
<h2> WHITHER NOW </h2>
<p>But man’s deliverances intervene<br/>
Between the soul’s swift speech and God’s high will;<br/>
That saith to tempests of the thought, “Be still!”<br/>
And in life’s lazaretto maketh clean<br/>
<br/>
The leprous sense. Ah, who can find his way<br/>
Among the many altars? Who can call<br/>
Out perfect peace from any ritual,<br/>
Or shelter find in systems of a day?<br/>
<br/>
As one sees on some ancient urn, upthrown<br/>
From out a tomb, records that none may read<br/>
With like interpretation, and the stone<br/>
<br/>
Retains its graven fealty to the dead:<br/>
So, on the great palimpsest men have writ<br/>
Such lines o’ercrossed that none interprets it.<br/></p>
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