Out of the house by night

Through flame and smoke and fear

I carried when I was eight

A boat that I held dear.

At twenty I would have known

A book was the thing to save.

For life in the world alone,

Let Emerson make me brave.

Now what shall I save from fire,

By fire compelled to choose?

A man at thirty-four

Has everything to lose.

I choose what cannot turn

To ashes and blow away,

Nor slowly blacken and burn

With time, and day by day.

Love, long the part of me

Too deep to lose of find,

Whenever the fire may be,

I shall not leave behind.