class="line">On it forever; and of its edges, set

And as the sea has not the strength to win

Back to its love my soul, O Comrades, ye—

In the wood lost, and seeking me therein—

Are not less impotent than all the sea!

My soul at last its ultimate house hath won,

And in that house shall sleep along with me.

Yea, we shall slumber softly, out of the sun,

To day and night alike indifferent,

Aware and unaware if Time be done.

Yet ere I go, ere yet your faith be spent,

For our old love I pass Earth's message on:

"In me, why shouldst thou not find thy content?

"Are not my days surpassing fair, from dawn

To sunset, and my nights fulfilled with peace?

Shall not my strength remain when thou art gone

"The way of all blown dust? Shall Beauty cease

Upon my face because thy face grows gray?

Behold, thine hours, even now, fade and decrease,

"And thou hast got no wisdom; yet I say

This thing there is to learn ere thou must go:

Have no sad thoughts of me upon the way

"Thou takest home coming; for thy soul shall know

The old glad things and sorrowful its share

Until at last Time's legions overthrow

The House thy days have builded unaware."

Now therefore am I joyful who have heard

Earth's message plain to-day, and so I cry