In night-long days, in aeons <br /> where all Time's nights are one; <br />where life and death sing paeans <br />as of Greeks and Galileans, <br /> never begun or done; <br /> <br />where fate, the slow swooping condor, <br /> comes glooming all the sky -- <br />as you have pondered I ponder, <br />as you have wandered I wander, <br /> as you have died, shall I die?<br /><br />Francis William Lauderdale Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-l-gordon/
