A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?

Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.

A pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied.

That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.

And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.

Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death.