When I meet the morning beam, <br />Or lay me down at night to dream, <br />I hear my bones within me say, <br />"Another night, another day. <br /> <br />"When shall this slough of sense be cast, <br />This dust of thoughts be laid at last, <br />The man of flesh and soul be slain <br />And the man of bone remain? <br /> <br />"This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout, <br />These thews that hustle us about, <br />This brain that fills the skull with schemes, <br />And its humming hive of dreams,-- <br /> <br />"These to-day are proud in power <br />And lord it in their little hour: <br />The immortal bones obey control <br />Of dying flesh and dying soul. <br /> <br />"'Tis long till eve and morn are gone: <br />Slow the endless night comes on, <br />And late to fulness grows the birth <br />That shall last as long as earth. <br /> <br />"Wanderers eastward, wanderers west, <br />Know you why you cannot rest? <br />'Tis that every mother's son <br />Travails with a skeleton. <br /> <br />"Lie down in the bed of dust; <br />Bear the fruit that bear you must; <br />Bring the eternal seed to light, <br />And morn is all the same as night. <br /> <br />"Rest you so from trouble sore, <br />Fear the heat o' the sun no more, <br />Nor the snowing winter wild, <br />Now you labour not with child. <br /> <br />"Empty vessel, garment cast, <br />We that wore you long shall last. <br />--Another night, another day." <br />So my bones within me say. <br /> <br />Therefore they shall do my will <br />To-day while I am master still, <br />And flesh and soul, now both are strong, <br />Shall hale the sullen slaves along, <br /> <br />Before this fire of sense decay, <br />This smoke of thought blow clean away, <br />And leave with ancient night alone <br />The stedfast and enduring bone.<br /><br />Alfred Edward Housman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-immortal-part/
