Outlook

  Not to be conquered by these headlong days, 

    But to stand free: to keep the mind at brood

    On life's deep meaning, nature's altitude

  Of loveliness, and time's mysterious ways;

  At every thought and deed to clear the haze

    Out of our eyes, considering only this,

    What man, what life, what love, what beauty is,

  This is to live, and win the final praise.

  Though strife, ill fortune, and harsh human need

    Beat down the soul, at moments blind and dumb

    With agony; yet, patience—there shall come

      Many great voices from life's outer sea,

    Hours of strange triumph, and, when few men heed,

      Murmurs and glimpses of eternity.

Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.Form: Sonnet: abbaaccadeefdf