The world in which we live and move Outlasts aversion, outlasts love: Outlasts each effort, interest, hope, Remorse, grief, joy.

This something is style , and the Celts certainly have it in a wonderful measure.

Thou hast no right to bliss.

Thou waitest for the spark from heaven: and we, Light half-believers of our casual creeds, Who never deeply felt, nor clearly willed… Who hesitate and falter life away, And lose tomorrow the ground won today— Ah! do not we, wanderer! await it too?

Truth sits upon the lips of dying men.

Wandering between two worlds, one dead,

Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born.

We cannot kindle when we will The fire that in the heart resides, The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides.