By winds diverse of doctrine blown,
Old Spurio, lately bigot fix’d,
Hath now no creed to call his own,
But slants him on, some two betwixt.
So when, cross-meeting, force and force
Have smote some stationary ball,
It takes no longer straightway course,
But sidles to diagonal.
(John Kenyon)
More Poetry from John Kenyon:
- Moonlight (John Kenyon Poems)
- Pretence. Part II - The Library (John Kenyon Poems)
- Dorchester Amphitheatre . (John Kenyon Poems)
- The Streams (John Kenyon Poems)
- The Gods Of Greece (John Kenyon Poems)
- Silchester (John Kenyon Poems)