REINCARNATION 
 
In life what hope is always unto men ? 
Stories of Arthur that shall come again 
To cleanse the Earth of her eternal stain, 
Elias, Charlemagne, Christ.  What matter then ? 
What matter who, or how, or even when ? 
If we but look beyond the primal pain, 
And trust the Future to write all things plain, 
Graven on brass with predestined pen. 
 
This is the doom.  Upon the blind blue sky 
A little cloud, no larger than an hand ! 
Whether I live and love, or love and die, 
I care not :  either way I understand. 
To me—to live is Christ ; to die is gain : 
For I, I also, I shall come again. 
 
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