Best be yourself, imperial, plain, and true.
At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.
Outside are the storms and strangers: we — Oh, close, safe, warm sleep I and she, — I and she!
And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, Is quick and transient,- comes, and lo! is gone, While Northern thought is slow and durable.
Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done.
There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.