Nearer

Nearer and ever nearer...

My body, tired but tense,

Hovers 'twixt vague pleasure

And tremulous confidence.

Arms to have and to use them       

And a soul to be made

Worthy, if not worthy;

If afraid, unafraid.

To endure for a little,

To endure and have done: 

Men I love about me,

Over me the sun!

And should at last suddenly

Fly the speeding death,

The four great quarters of heaven

Receive this littlle  breath.