Shapes of Clay

The Church's compass, if you please,

Has two or three (or more) degrees

Of variation;

And many a soul has gone to grief

On this or that or t'other reef

Through faith unreckoning or brief

Miscalculation.

Misguidance is of perils chief

To navigation.

The obsequious thing makes, too, you'll mark,

Obeisance through a little arc

Of declination;

For Satan, fearing witches, drew

From Death's pale horse, one day, a shoe,

And nailed it to his door to undo

Their machination.

Since then the needle dips to woo

His habitation.