at times I almost dream, I too have spent a life the sages' way, And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance I perished in an arrogant self-reliance.
Age's ago; and in that act, a prayer, for once more chance went up so earnest, so Instinict with better light let in by death, That life was blotted out-not so completely
But scattered wrecks enough of it remain, Dim memories, as now when once more seems,
The goal is in sight again.
 



nmf.