Page:The Seven Seas (Kipling, 1896).djvu/131

Rh Regent of spheres that lock our fears

Our hopes invisible,

Oh 'twas certes at Thy decrees

We fashioned Heaven and Hell!

Pure Wisdom hath no certain path

That lacks thy morning-eyne,

And captains bold by Thee controlled

Most like to Gods design;

Thou art the Voice to kingly boys

To lift them through the fight,

And Comfortress of Unsuccess,

To give the dead good-night—

A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law

And Man's infirmity,

A shadow kind to dumb and blind

The shambles where we die;

A rule to trick th' arithmetic

Too base of leaguing odds—

The spur of trust, the curb of lust,

Thou handmaid of the Gods!