The Yogi on the Whirlpool

On a dire whirlpool in the hurrying river,

    A life-stilled statue naked, bronze, severe,

    He kept the posture of a deathless seer

Unshaken by the mad water’s leap and shiver.

Thought could not think in him, flesh could not quiver;

    The feet of Time could not adventure here;

    Only some unknown Power nude and austere,

Only a Silence mighty to deliver.

His spirit world-wide and companionless,

    Seated above the torrent of the days

        On the deep eddy that our being forms,

Silent sustained the huge creation’s stress,

    Unchanged supporting Nature’s rounds and norms,

        Immobile background of the cosmic race.

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