Think thou and act; to-morrow thou shalt die <br /> Outstretch'd in the sun's warmth upon the shore, <br /> Thou say'st: "Man's measur'd path is all gone o'er: <br /> Up all his years, steeply, with strain and sigh, <br /> Man clomb until he touch'd the truth; and I, <br /> Even I, am he whom it was destin'd for." <br /> How should this be? Art thou then so much more <br /> Than they who sow'd, that thou shouldst reap thereby? <br /> <br /> Nay, come up hither. From this wave-wash'd mound <br /> Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me; <br /> Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown'd. <br /> Miles and miles distant though the last line be, <br /> And though thy soul sail leagues and leagues beyond,-- <br /> Still, leagues beyond those leagues, there is more sea.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lxxiii-the-choice-iii/
