They leave us with the Infinite


They leave us with the Infinite.
But He is not a man
His fingers are the size of fists
His fists, the size of men

And whom he foundeth, with his Arm
As Himmaleh, shall stand
Gibraltar’s Everlasting Shoe
Poised lightly on his Hand,

So trust him, Comrade
You for you, and I, for you and me
Eternity is ample,
And quick enough, if true.


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They leave us with the Infinite