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If he go on too far to find a grave；
Mostly alone he goes。
Even he； who stood where I had found him；
On high with fire all round him；
Who moved along the molten west；
And over the round hill's crest
That seemed half ready with him to go down；
Flame…bitten and flame…cleft；
As if there were to be no last thing left
Of a nameless unimaginable town；
Even he who climbed and vanished may have taken
Down to the perils of a depth not known；
From death defended though by men forsaken；
The bread that every man must eat alone；
He may have walked while others hardly dared
Look on to see him stand where many fell；
And upward out of that； as out of hell；
He may have sung and striven
To mount where more of him shall yet be given；
Bereft of all retreat；
To sevenfold heat；
As on a day when three in Dura shared
The furnace； and were spared
For glory by that king of Babylon
Who made himself so great that God； who heard；
Covered him with long feathers； like a bird。
Again； he may have gone down easily；
By comfortable altitudes； and found；
As always； underneath him solid ground
Whereon to be sufficient and to stand
Possessed already of the promised land；
Far stretched and fair to see：
A good sight； verily；
And one to make the eyes of her who bore him
Shine glad with hidden tears。
Why question of his ease of who before him；
In one place or another where they left
Their names as far behind them as their bones；
And yet by dint of slaughter toil and theft；
And shrewdly sharpened stones；
Carved hard the way for his ascendency
Through deserts of lost years？
Why trouble him now who sees and hears
No more than what his innocence requires；
And therefore to no other height aspires
Than one at which he neither quails nor tires？
He may do more by seeing what he sees
Than others eager for iniquities；
He may； by seeing all things for the best；
Incite futurity to do the rest。
Or with an even likelihood；
He may have met with atrabilious eyes
The fires of time on equal terms and passed
Indifferently down； until at last
His only kind of grandeur would have been；
Apparently； in being seen。
He may have had for evil or for good
No argument； he may have had no care
For what without himself went anywhere
To failure or to glory； and least of all
For such a stale； flamboyant miracle；
He may have been the prophet of an art
Immovable to old idolatries；
He may have been a player without a part；
Annoyed that even the sun should have the skies
For such a flaming way to advertise；
He may have been a painter sick at heart
With Nature's toiling for a new surprise；
He may have been a cynic； who now； for all
Of anything divine that his effete
Negation may have tasted；
Saw truth in his own image； rather small；
Forbore to fever the ephemeral；
Found any barren height a good retreat
From any swarming street；
And in the sun saw power superbly wasted；
And when the primitive old…fashioned stars
Came out again to shine on joys and wars
More primitive； and all arrayed for doom；
He may have proved a world a sorry thing
In his imagining；
And life a lighted highway to the tomb。
Or； mounting with infirm unsearching tread；
His hopes to chaos led；
He may have stumbled up there from the past；
And with an aching strangeness viewed the last
Abysmal conflagration of his dreams；
A flame where nothing seems
To burn but flame itself； by nothing fed；
And while it all went out；
Not even the faint anodyne of doubt
May then have eased a painful going down
From pictured heights of power and lost renown；
Revealed at length to his outlived endeavor
Remote and unapproachable forever；
And at his heart there may have gnawed
Sick memories of a dead faith foiled and flawed
And long dishonored by the living death
Assigned alike by chance
To brutes and hierophants；
And anguish fallen on those he loved around him
May once have dealt the last blow to confound him；
And so have left him as death leaves a child；
Who sees it all too near；
And he who knows no young way to forget
May struggle to the tomb unreconciled。
Whatever suns may rise or set
There may be nothing kinder for him here
Than shafts and agonies；
And under these
He may cry out and stay on horribly；
Or； seeing in death too small a thing to fear；
He may go forward like a stoic Roman
Where pangs and terrors in his pathway lie；
Or； seizing the swift logic of a woman；
Curse God and die。
Or maybe there； like many another one
Who might have stood aloft and looked ahead；
Black…drawn against wild red；
He may have built； unawed by fiery gules
That in him no commotion stirred；
A living reason out of molecules
Why molecules occurred；
And one for smiling when he might have sighed
Had he seen far enough；
And in the same inevitable stuff
Discovered an odd reason too for pride
In being what he must have been by laws
Infrangible and for no kind of cause。
Deterred by no confusion or surprise
He may have seen with his mechanic eyes
A world without a meaning； and had room；
Alone amid magnificence and doom；
To build himself an airy monument
That should； or fail him in his vague intent；
Outlast an accidental universe
To call it nothing worse
Or； by the burrowing guile
Of Time disintegrated and effaced；
Like once…remembered mighty trees go down
To ruin； of which by man may now be traced
No part sufficient even to be rotten；
And in the book of things that are forgotten
Is entered as a thing not quite worth while。
He may have been so great
That satraps would have shivered at his frown；
And all he prized alive may rule a state
No larger than a grave that holds a clown；
He may have been a master of his fate；
And of his atoms； ready as another
In his emergence to exonerate
His father and his mother；
He may have been a captain of a host；
Self…eloquent and ripe for prodigies；
Doomed here to swell by dangerous degrees；
And then give up the ghost。
Nahum's great grasshoppers were such as these；
Sun…scattered and soon lost。
Whatever the dark road he may have taken；
This man who stood on high
And faced alone the sky；
Whatever drove or lured or guided him；
A vision answering a faith unshaken；
An easy trust assumed of easy trials；
A sick negation born of weak denials；
A crazed abhorrence of an old condition；
A blind attendance on a brief ambition；
Whatever stayed him or derided him；
His way was even as ours；
And we； with all our wounds and all our powers；
Must each await alone at his own height
Another darkness or another light；
And there； of our poor self dominion reft；
If inference and reason shun
Hell； Heaven； and Oblivion；
May thwarted will （perforce precarious；
But for our conservation better thus）
Have no misgiving left
Of doing yet what here we leave undone？
Or if unto the last of these we cleave；
Believing or protesting we bel