You need not answer ’round whom all revolve,
drawn inexorably toward their fate.
You need do nothing for all to resolve,
it is for us to move knowing you wait.

Thus planets orbit ’round their burning sun,
in chains of gravity and dark desire,
until their circling’s over and they come
to fuel at last their funeral pyre.

Like this in ev’ry sphere the greater rules
and so the weaker yields as he must.
To protest this is useless and he fools
only himself who calls his fate unjust.

I would change nothing even could I choose;
the poet’s made to wait upon his muse.