Authority

Launched upon ether float the worlds secure.
Naught hath the truthful Maker to conceal.
No trestle-work of adamant or steel
Is that high firmament where these endure.
Patient, majestic, round their cynosure
In secular procession see them wheel;
Self-poised, but not self-centred, for they feel
In each tense fibre one all-conquering lure.
And need I fret me, Father, for that Thou
Dost will the weightiest verities to swing
On viewless orbits? Nay, henceforth I cleave
More firmly to the Credo; and my vow
With readier footstep to thine altar bring,
As one who counts it freedom to believe.