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XCII
I know that the day will come when my sight of this
earth shall be lost, and life will take its leave in silence,
drawing the last curtain over my eyes.
Yet stars will watch at night, and morning rise as before, and
hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.
When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the
moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its
careless treasures. Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its meanest
of lives.
Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got| let them
pass. Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and
overlooked.
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