And then the glad, barbaric blood came back

Singing a livelier tune; and in my pulse

Beat the great wave that surges and exults....

Why I was there and whither I must go

I did not care. Enough for me to know

The same unresting struggle and the glowing

Beauty of spendthrift hours, bravely showing

Life, an adventure perilous and gay;

And Death, a long and vivid holiday.

HANDS