A Creed

Let others frame their creeds; mine is to work; To do my best, however far it fall Below the keener craft of stronger hands: To be myself, full-hearted, free, and true To what my own soul sees, below, above; To think my thought straight-forward from the heart; To feel, and be, and never stop to ask: “Do all men so? Is this the World’s highway?” To look unflinching in the face of life As eagles look upon the noonday sun; To cut my own path through primeval woods; To lay my own course by the polar star Across the trackless plains and mountains vast; To seek, not follow, ever to the end. And for the rest--bare-handed have I come Into this world, I know not whence nor why; Bare-handed and alone and unafraid, With heart of fire and eyes that question still, Will I go forth into the wide Beyond; As went the men who bore my blood of old To prove their dream of Heaven, or dare their Hell.