Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life.
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untraveled world whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life!
And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
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