Some goal His in the outer haze
Waiting the pilgrims there;
But if, as preachers aver, it be
Part of some changeless plan
Typed in the shop of Eternity,
Never a sentence, my friends, did we
Write for the play of “Man”!
[41]
]DREAMING THE DREAM OF LIFE.
A fig for the world and its carping cares,
Its worry and wear and fret—