Life and Existence

They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. 1

If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. 1

It is time to be old, To take in sail.

It is time to be old, To take in sail.

Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.

So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, I can.

“Pass in, pass in,” the angels say, “In to the upper doors, Nor count compartments of the floors, But mount to paradise By the stairway of surprise.”

“Pass in, pass in,” the angels say, “In to the upper doors, Nor count compartments of the floors, But mount to paradise By the stairway of surprise.”

Heartily know, When half-gods go, The gods arrive.

I like a church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of the soul; And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains or pensive smiles; Yet not for all his faith can see Would I that cowlèd churchman be.

To rise at six, to dine at ten, To sup at six, to sleep at ten, Makes a man live for ten times ten.

It is thy very energy of thought Which keeps thee from thy God.

It is thy very energy of thought Which keeps thee from thy God.

Time hath a taming hand.

Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; Lead thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home; Lead thou me on! Keep thou my feet: I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me.

Glimmering stars of the Great Bear, I never thought I’d be back to see you Shining down on my father’s garden, Nor talk to you ever again from the windows Of this house where I spent my childhood And saw the last of my happiness vanish.

Glimmering stars of the Great Bear, I never thought I’d be back to see you Shining down on my father’s garden, Nor talk to you ever again from the windows Of this house where I spent my childhood And saw the last of my happiness vanish.

What were we? What was that bitter instant We called life?

What were we? What was that bitter instant We called life?

What were we? What was that bitter instant We called life?

So we keep asking, over and over, Until a handful of earth Stops our mouths— But is that an answer?

So we keep asking, over and over, Until a handful of earth Stops our mouths— But is that an answer?

When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain.