The One Who Whirls Each Star
The One who whirls each star,
who sews the turning globe
to heaven's endless robe
in pattern none can mar,
who, born of holy maid,
made Peter as a stone,
and bore the world alone,
as God, His Father bade,
that Power formed your line,
gave music to your voice,
your spirit breathed inside --
and made you be not mine,
beyond the grasp of choice,
a stone to tomb my pride.
