Sagest of All

Some say that Time a destroyer is,
That all things crumble in his hard strong clutch.
But greatest fame soars far beyond his grasp
When hailing men their heroes worship much.
Then so shall Galt, though he a fiction is,
Hold back Time’s fist with his heroic mind,
For sane men worship him as mirrored light
That leads them to a height that’s self-assigned,
A joyous, self-made end that Time can’t beat,
But failing, falls down groveling at men’s feet.
Yea, Time can be a lover only when
He eternizes triumph of great men,
And gives to sages ages where to stand,
And sagest of all these—great Galt’s Ayn Rand.

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