Today, and every day, and the story true,

Murder will out. I curse, though sick at heart,

Some small incredible cruelty not new.

Yet will certainly up tomorrow cry and start

At the torn flag of courage in a gale at noon,

Or at spirit by spirit known and onward sped.

I plod stupidity's deep dry sandy dune.

I shiver again where kindness came and fled.

Shall I be much amazed at the watery air,

Or the airy earth, in kind as they must be?

But man, the fiery element everywhere,

Saddens, astounds, delights, and angers me.

Though man, the fiery element, sink like fire

With winter on the world, and go out black,

He flames again, a new light leaping higher,

A human warmth that drives the winter back.

His is the burning, variously bright,

Now tall as love is tall, now low as shame,

That breaks earth's shadow with a human light,

Himself the fuel and ash, himself the flame.