Which I account the ultimate of man,
Of which there 's not one day nor hour but brings,
In flower or fruit, some sample of success,
Out of this same society I save—
None of it for me! That I might have none,
I rapped your tampering knuckles twenty years,
Such was the task imposed me, such my end.
Now for the means thereto. Ah, confidence—
Keep we together or part company?
This is the critical minute! "Such my end?"