Holy of holies Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas] |
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34
XXX.
[And all are mountains who have learned to scorn]
And all are mountains who have learned to scornPassion, disaster, hope, and destiny,
All that lift up defiant brows on high,
Self-based upon a dignity forlorn,
Alone and loving to be lonely, born
For rule or isolation. Such am I
E'en in my downfall and despair. No cry
Escapes me now, by inward strength upborne.
I care not though the whole vast universe
Be shattered round me. I am I, and keep
My soul's identity in life or death,
And would not be another, proudly averse
To pay that homage to earth's loftiest steep.—
Baffled, not conquered I shall yield my breath.
March 12th, 1886.
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