Perfection

Always that passion in the human breast,

That restless passion for The Perfect Thing,

With its sifting, sorting, rule and measure-string,

And a terrible eye for the error manifest.

Yet, well for the sometime jewei emerged from the quest!

And well for the seldom ore with the mellow ring!

And well for the hunter whose diligent hands can bring

One easeful object to the great Unrest.

Slow is the process, infinitely slow

Up the tedious road with Perfection for its goal;

And many an outgrown husk is cast off by the way;

But the urge never wavers an inch from the course it

must go;

And in some far time it shall rise as a perfect Whole. .. .

I polish my pebble-stone for that ultimate day.