That blasts like the breath of fulfilled Desire,
Glory and Shame in its secret hoards,
It stands supreme, the Ladder of Swords!
You must climb it? Aye, with all men born!
When? When you reel from the common scorn,
When utter Defeat has gripped you fast,
And your life goes down in the dark at last;
When the things you builded dissolve like mist,
And Love has broken his faith and tryst,
And your body strains at the torturers’ cords,