But really, I am fine as I began.
Without the curse of living free from strife,
I really have the very best of life.
Although not much is mine, I truly can
Bespeak my luck. I truly am a man
Who cannot duck his purpose, who is rife
With strength to take his coming step. That life
Is something best among, or better than
The best the universe can offer me;
Or better still–the strife that makes it sweet–
Its promise will, so lift and ever free
My soul for endless triumph and defeat.
If only God, who gifts me so, could see
The need to keep His gifts to me discrete.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
I do like this very much. “-the strife that makes it sweet-” is very nice.
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I learned this concept long ago. Perhaps from you; but more likely it was indirectly learned in the process of trying to understand you at least as much as even then I loved you.
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