QUICKSAND years that whirl me I know not whither,
Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and
elude me,
Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess'd soul, eludes
not,
One's-self must never give way - that is the final substance - that
out of all is sure,
Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life, what at last finally
remains?
When shows break up what but One's-Self is sure?
Note: I swear on my life that this is not homework; I just really want to know what it means... I guess you could say it has piqued my interest.
2007-08-21
14:08:57
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2 answers
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asked by
Anonymous