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.