And I went out and stood and gazed at my little home. Farewell, farewell, little home! Perhaps I shall never see you again; but ever you will live in my fancy as my heaven upon earth. They built thee for picnic parties! And I wonder what proud prince had built for his pleasures—the Garden of Gethsemane!
And now I go forth like a bridegroom out of my chamber, rejoicing as a strong man to run a race. And all the world dances around me, and I stretch out my arms and sing!
Come, come, my foes, where are ye now? What foes shall I be afraid of now! Is it the world and its trials? Come!
I go back to conquer—I have forged my weapon! I have bared my arm! Where are those foes of mine?
There is nothing so commonplace that it does not sing to me. I walk with a springing step, I laugh, I exult. Birds, flowers, men—I love them all; I get into the train, and the going of it is drunkenness. I have won! I have won!
I go back to the world. Come, world! I have but four dollars left—four dollars!—and The Captive!