XXV
One day I queried would she please to Say
How long, how long this Fad was apt to Stay?
She smiled and said, "My dear, don't fret about
'Unborn To-Morrow and Dead Yesterday.'"
XXVI
"'The Moving Finger writes, and having Writ
Moves on.'" "And surely, dear, you have the Grit
To be submissive to the Hand of Fate,
When you can't help yourself a single Bit."
XXVII
PREDESTINATION—full of Unbelief—
Must I accept it, is there no Relief?
The very thought of it most drives me Mad,
And bows me to the very Earth with Grief.