Will I then safeguard myself
And say that I will not fall
And that I will not fail?
Wail through greying fog;
The way is thick, burdened,
Cold mist by jagged stone—
When lost, lone men weep, curse,
When lost, lone men falter,
In decrepit pits, filled
With deed and with bone.
By and by, I venture onward;
I taste death, pitch, bitter,
Looking upward in wonder
Trudging onward still, yonder.