Chapter I

Fit for perpetual worship is the power That holds our bodies safely to the earth.

When people talk of their domestic gods, Then privately I think of You.

We ride through space upon your shoulders Conveniently and lightly set, And, so accustomed, we relax our hold, Forget the gentle motion of your body-- But You do not forget.

Sometimes you breathe a little faster, Or move a muscle: Then we remember you, O Master.