I wage not any feud with
For changes wrought on form and face;
No lower life that earth's
May breed with him, can fright my faith.
Eternal process moving on,
From state to state the spirit walks;
And these are but the shatter'd stalks,
Or ruin'd chrysalis of one.
Nor blame I Death, because he
The use of virtue out of earth:
I know transplanted human
Will bloom to profit, otherwhere.
For this alone on Death I
The wrath that garners in my heart;
He put our lives so far
We cannot hear each other speak.
