Not in some far-off time,
By paths unknown or some mysterious way,
Shall life be perfect; for the Self that knows,
The Glory is today.
Eyes will look out beyond,
But feet must follow in a long, long climb,
Till the flood-tide of thought is reached by both
Now in this present time.
I may sleep and forget,
But I shall wake again in the same place,
Myself just as I was; though it may be
Of different line or race.
No magic space between
Marks a division in the slow ascent,
For through the sleep, the waking, and the dream,
I see the way I went.