III.— THE RECKONING

The whole world burns, and with it burns my flesh. Arise, thou spirit spent by sterile tears; Thine eyes were ardent once, thy looks were fresh, Thy brow shone bright amid thy shining peers. Fame calls thee not, thou who hast vainly strayed So far for her; nor Passion, who in the past Gave thee her ghost to wed and to be paid; Nor Love, whose anguish only learned to last.

Honour it is that calls: canst thou forget Once thou wert strong? Listen; the solemn call Sounds but this once again. Put by regret For summons missed, or thou hast missed them all. Body is ready, Fortune pleased; O let Not the poor Past cost the proud Future's fall.