And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?
Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise would kill me, if I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me.
I accept reality and dare not question it.
I lean and loaf at my ease... observing a spear of summer grass.
So here I sit in the early candle-light of old age-I and my book-casting backward glances over out travel'd road.
The past, the future, majesty, love - if they are vacant of you, you are vacant of them.