Within us,—this much we know, and wisely creep
Away from age lest we disturb his sleep
Where Youth intolerably weeping lies.
Is this our portion? Shall we not go far
Beyond this presence, bearing our flags unfurled
Exultantly beyond some alien hill
Of dreams?—rise up, and up, and up, until
This place we knew must seem a sorry world
And the old earth a too familiar star?
HERBERT W. HARTMAN, JR.