Andromeda by Leigh Gordon Giltner — Read

Bound ever to a great grey rock of Doom, / Striving with futile hands to rive the chain

Of woven fear, distrust and subtle pain, / While gaunt wolf-waves that leap from out the gloom

Of doubt's cold sea are snarling at my feet, / As nearer writhes the dragon of Despair

Foul with dank horrors of his caverned lair, / And like a clock of doom the dark tides beat.

I lift my eyes; Lo! sudden sweeps along / Thought's empyrean and the vast of dreams

One star-browed, Jove-like, human-orbed; meseems / His feet are winged with music, shod with song;

Ah, Perseus, should'st thou, pitying, leave the sky / To loose my bonds--then all the fear were gone,

Soul touching soul, trust from distrust were won, / Like god and goddess 'fronted, thou and I;

Despair were slain, closed the unequal strife, / Thy great soul's strength should make weak purpose strong,

Thy hand should lead me up the slopes of Song, / Thy winged feet guide me to the peaks of Life!