I cannot rest from travel; I will drink Life to the lees.

And out of darkness came the hands that reach through nature, moulding men.

I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel For words, like nature, half reveal And half conceal the soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain A use measured language lie's The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotic's, numbing pain In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er Like coarsest clothes against the cold But large grief which these enfold Is given in outline and no more.

So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight

A beam in darkness: let it grow.

As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.

The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.