Ayn Rand

From ownership of her
She does not self defer;
With eyes so clear and fine
Says, “All I see is mine;”
With admiration’s kiss
Pens heroes forth in bliss;
With joy upon her face
Makes sacred every place;
From spring of thought like steel
Ties mind to all that’s real;
With radiant moral force
Sings man his sovereign course;
From philosophic height
She bids the world, “Good-light.”

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