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.