I fling a halter round old matter’s neck.
Glad to be taught of things outside, yet I
Find me indifferent to their transient touch;
A life’s to-day is an eternity
Seems not to please my spirit overmuch.
I may not fathom now the end or what
The sweat and blood and tragedy may mean;
But I can fight the fight and falter not.
Above the clouds the hilltops are serene.
So if I stay here years or slip away