1

THERE are broken threads, I cannot knit to-night, There are thoughts astray, that will not bear the light,

Hopes and fears of wild rash wandering ways, The crushed up longings of a hundred days.

2

There are untrod roads I see them stretch afar, There are untold hills before I reach that star, Endless broken bridges, barriers thrust aside, And all the gateways standing gaping wide.

3

Surely beyond the ridge, I see it stand out clear, There shines the guide post, by which I know to steer. Silver bright, the glad clean sweeping road. And at the sunset, lay down every load.

4

Leave broken things, there comes some time an end When all unfinished things (towards this way) will bend,

Wildings born of the great untamed wind; All gathered up at sunset, we will find.