Already I’m upon the bridge that leads

From Earth unto a land beyond my ken,

And far to me is now what once was near.

Beneath, as formerly, the race of men

Praise, blame, and forge their darts for warlike deeds;

But now I see that true and noble creeds

Even on my foemen’s shields are blazoned clear.

No more does life bewilder with its riot,

I am as lonely as a man may be;

Still is the air, austere and winter-quiet;

Self is forgot, and I go forward free.

I loose my shoes and cast aside my stave.

Softly I go, for I would not defile

With dust a world so pure, all white as snow.

Beneath, men soon may carry to a grave

A wretched shape of human clay, the while

Mumbling a name—’twas mine once long ago.