Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.
But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs the deep.
She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room
I found Him in the shining of the stars.
The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.