The Wind Is Without There And Howls In The Trees

9Alone, did I say? O no, nowise alone

10With the Past sitting warm on my knee,

11To gossip of days that are over and gone,

12But still charming to her and to me.

13With much to be glad of and much to deplore,

14Yet, as these days with those we compare,

15Believe me, my friend, tho' the sorrows seem more

16They are somehow more easy to bear.

17And thou, faded Future, uncertain and frail,

18As I cherish thy light in each draught,

19His lamp is not more to the miner - their sail

20Is not more to the crew on the raft.

21For Hope can make feeble ones earnest and brave,

22And, as forth thro' the years I look on,

23Believe me, my friend, between this and the grave,

24I see wonderful things to be done.

25To do or to try; and, believe me, my friend,

26If the call should come early for me,

27I can leave these foundations uprooted, and tend

28For some new city over the sea.

29To do or to try; and if failure be mine,

30And if Fortune go cross to my plan,

31Believe me, my friend, tho' I mourn the design

32I shall never lament for the man.