If our souls, split now in two, so
As a stiff twin compass is two;
My soul, that firm foot, will not show
To part, but doth, if its pair will do.
And though it far from orbit sits,
Still as its pair away will tack,
It tilts and follows hard towards it,
And grows up straight, as its pair turns back.
Such will I do for you, who must,
As our front foot, far away part;
My fixity holds our oval just,
And brings us in turn back to our start.