One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake.

Fair or foul the lot apportioned life on earth, we bear alike.

Therefore I summon age / To grant youth's heritage.

Time'swheelsrunsbackor stops: Potterand clayendure.

Generations pass while some tree stands, and old families last not three oaks.

For I say this is death and the sole death,- When a man's loss comes to him from his gain, Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, And lack of love from love made manifest.

But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.