“For men may come and men may go, but I go on forever...”

“I hold it truth, with him who singsTo one clear harp in divers tones,That men may rise on stepping-stonesOf their dead selves to higher things.”

“And ah for a man to arise in me,That the man I am may cease to be!”

“Sooner or later I too may passively take the printOf the golden age--why not? I have neither hope nor trust;May make my heart as a millstone, set my face as a flint,Cheat and be cheated, and die: who knows? we are ashes and dust.”

“Sunset and evening starAnd one clear call for me!And may there be no moaning of the bar,When I put out to sea,But such a tide as moving seems asleep,Too full for sound and foam,When that which drew from out the boundless deepTurns again home.Twilight and evening bell,And after that the dark!And may there be no sadness of farewell,When I embark;For though from out our bourne of Time and PlaceThe flood may bear me far,I hope to see my Pilot face to faceWhen I have crossed the bar.”

“And out of darkness came the hands that reach thro' nature, moulding men.”

“Let me go: take back thy gift:Why should a man desire in any wayTo vary from the kindly race of men,Or pass beyond the goal of ordinanceWhere all should pause, as is most meet for all?...Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears,And make me tremble lest a saying learnt,In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true?‘The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.’- Tithonus”