“. . . out of Zebulun they that handle the pen of the writer.” —Judges 5:14
What is this stuff we think is Life,
and what has Life to offer me?
As high and high she lets me climb,
I see below me rocks and crags;
and ponder Life — how long ’twill be
before she lets me slip.
Life has let me rise this far —
indeed, has lifted hand o’er foot
to bring me hence! — but to what end?
The crags and catches many are
on which to break me and to put
an end to this dead soul.
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