The old dog barks backward without getting up I can remember when he was a pup.

So when at times the mob is swayed To carry praise or blame too far, We may choose something like a star To stay our minds on and be staid.

Only where love and need are one, And the work is play for mortal stakes Is the deed ever truly done For Heaven and the future's sakes

But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

The chance is the remotest, Of its going much longer unnoticed, That I'm not keeping pace With the headlong human race

The only way out is to go through

I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering.