(I wrote this short praise of Ayn Rand [some] years ago. “Anthem” was the first novel, the first words, of hers which I read (at age 19). “I am, I think, I will” were the first exalting, liberating words I had read or heard or spoken.)

I love your heroic innocence.
No tragic sigh could shake
Your daring trumpet-mouth,
Nor one frail “I” hail you.

For joy of  Anthem’s speech
I see rare glass in reach;
Beauty lights in my being,
Light sight, sight right,
Till I see what I am seeing.

Your hymnal hath spoke me such worth
That my lips now say what they can:
I hear your dear voice spear the earth
And cloven in one is man.