Resembles life what once was deem’d of light,
Too ample in itself for human sight?
An absolute self–an element ungrounded–
All that we see, all colours of all shade
By encroach of darkness made?–
Is very life by consciousness unbounded?
And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath,
A war-embrace of wrestling life and death?
Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog