What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.
Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
Since there my past life lies, why alter it?
In the first is the last, in thy will is my power to believe.