MY soul has left its tent of clay
And seeks from star to star,
‘ Mid flaming worlds that are to be,
And fruitful worlds that are,
The Voice which spake and said “Live on!”
( When Death said, “You may die” )
And sent my spirit wandering
The stairway of the sky.
Still must I seek what on the earth
I sought as fruitlessly —
The world I knew, the heaven I scorned
Lost in infinity:
Alone, and on the ageless breath
Of cosmic whirlwinds spun,
I hurtle through the outer dark
Toward some fantastic sun!—
O God! how happy is the leaf,
A sweet and soulless thing,
Dying to live but in the green
Of yet another Spring —
These heights, these depths, these flaming worlds,
This stairway of the sky
I'd give, had no Voice said “Live on!”
When Death said, “You may die.”