I am a part of all that I have met.

Yet all experience is an arch wherethru’

gleams that untraveled world, whose margins

fade for ever and ever when I move.

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,

to rust unburnished, not to shine in use

– that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will.

To strike, to seek, to find and not to yield.