THE KEEPER

Wide is the world and wide its open seas,
Yet I who fare from pole to pole remain
A prisoned Hope that paces ill at ease,
A captive Fear that fumbles with its chain.

I once for Freedom madly did aspire,
And stormed His bars in many a burst of
rage:
But see, my Keeper with his brands of fire
Has cowed me quiet . . . and bade me love
my cage!