Page:Songs before sunrise (IA beforesunrisongs00swinrich).pdf/174

 Till it come for all Tribes of men and lands.

No desire brings fire Down from heaven by prayer, Though man's vain desire Hang faith's wind-struck lyre Out in tuneless air.

One hath breath and saith What the tune shall be— Time, who puts his breath Into life and death, Into earth and sea.

To and fro years flow, Fill their tides and ebb, As his fingers go Weaving to and fro One unfinished web.

All the range of change Hath its bounds therein, All the lives that range All the byways strange Named of death or sin.