OUTLOOK
NOT to be conquered by these headlong days,But to stand free: to keep the mind at broodOn life's deep meaning, nature's altitudeOf loveliness, and time's mysterious ways;At every thought and deed to clear the hazeOut of our eyes, considering only this,What man, what life, what love, what beauty is,This is to live, and win the final praise.Though strife, ill fortune, and harsh human needBeat down the soul, at moments blind and dumbWith agony; yet, patience—there shall comeMany great voices from life's outer sea,Hours of strange triumph, and, when few men heed,Murmurs and glimpses of eternity.
NOT to be conquered by these headlong days,But to stand free: to keep the mind at broodOn life's deep meaning, nature's altitudeOf loveliness, and time's mysterious ways;At every thought and deed to clear the hazeOut of our eyes, considering only this,What man, what life, what love, what beauty is,This is to live, and win the final praise.Though strife, ill fortune, and harsh human needBeat down the soul, at moments blind and dumbWith agony; yet, patience—there shall comeMany great voices from life's outer sea,Hours of strange triumph, and, when few men heed,Murmurs and glimpses of eternity.
NOT to be conquered by these headlong days,But to stand free: to keep the mind at broodOn life's deep meaning, nature's altitudeOf loveliness, and time's mysterious ways;At every thought and deed to clear the hazeOut of our eyes, considering only this,What man, what life, what love, what beauty is,This is to live, and win the final praise.
NOT to be conquered by these headlong days,
But to stand free: to keep the mind at brood
On life's deep meaning, nature's altitude
Of loveliness, and time's mysterious ways;
At every thought and deed to clear the haze
Out of our eyes, considering only this,
What man, what life, what love, what beauty is,
This is to live, and win the final praise.
Though strife, ill fortune, and harsh human needBeat down the soul, at moments blind and dumbWith agony; yet, patience—there shall comeMany great voices from life's outer sea,Hours of strange triumph, and, when few men heed,Murmurs and glimpses of eternity.
Though strife, ill fortune, and harsh human need
Beat down the soul, at moments blind and dumb
With agony; yet, patience—there shall come
Many great voices from life's outer sea,
Hours of strange triumph, and, when few men heed,
Murmurs and glimpses of eternity.