No one of these, but one compact of all:
A wilful boy, a man still dealing blows,
Of purpose blind to lead men to their thrall:
A god that rules unruly—God, he knows.
Boy! pity me that am a child again;
Blind, be no more my guide to make me stray:
Man! use thy might to force away my pain;
God! do me good and lead me to my way;
And if thou beest a power to me unknown,
Power of my life! let here thy grace be shown.