A Reed by the River/The Race
THE RACE(65 A.D.)
Nay, hold me not and bid me not look back, A sun-gleam strikes yon golden minaret,He who would win must bound upon the track Unloosed of old regret!
Behold! My limbs are white within the dawn, And like a bird that breaks the eastern sky,My heart, with wings of flame is speeding on, Beyond the trumpet's cry.
Then stay me not, beloved. Bid me free Of all past dark; its cloak I cast away,And thus unbound, saving by love of thee, I leap into the day!
Not Casar nor the gods can strike me blind Of this Today, wherein life's treasure lies;Harken! . . . Forgetful of the things behind, I press unto the prize!