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.