No use hoping, or feeling vext,

Tugged by a force above or under

Like some fantocine, much I wonder

What I shall find me doing next!

Shall I be rushing where bright eyes be?

Shall I be suffering sorrows seven?

Shall I be watching the stars of heaven,

Thinking one of them looks like thee?

Part is mine of the general Will,

Cannot my share in the sum of sources

Bend a digit the poise of forces,

And a fair desire fulfil?

Nov. 1893.