Peter Cometh - Sonnet 36

There is a place of rest for heart and soil:

Among the dry bed in the temple yard

Within the regal stones; but standing guard

Against the principalities, the foil

Of banes existent, piercing through the clouds

Accumulating slower than the age

Of men and memory, then turn the page

To write another chapter in their shrouds;

When all the earth falls silent in the end,

Then in the dusk their fate has been decreed

For powers and for all posterity:

"We move on: we move onward once again;

Go forth in charity, and do not spurn

The rock that carries on to each in turn."