Page:The Man Who Died Twice (1924).djvu/43

 And his vituperative temporizing

Over a eh in rags would mend no holes.

“But there’s a crown that even the lowliest

May learn to wear,” he said. “Glory to God!”

And his eyes glittered with an icy joy

That made me hope that he was wearing it.

“Of course we can’t forget,” he said in answer

To doubt that in my silence may have spoken;

“Yet there is much that we may leave behind,

And there is always more if we go on.”

In marking after that the accuracy

Of his minute recount, I found it hard

Not to believe that he remembered all—

Save that which of itself was everything,

Or once had been so. There before the mirror,

That bitter midnight when he heard the clocks,