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Poems (Kennedy)/Self-Conquest

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4590564Poems — Self-ConquestSara Beaumont Kennedy

SELF-CONQUEST
IT was no use, the sharp revolt,
The bitter protest of my soul
'Gainst destiny that seemed to mock
  And hold me from my highest goal.

I said that I would break the bonds,
  That somehow I would master fate;
Beyond pain's winding labyrinth
  New spheres of hope I would create.

Alas! I only bruised my hands
  Nor found a clue from out the maze,
And so, heart-sick, I have come back—
  Back to the parting of the ways.

And here, where hot rebellion dies
  And selfishness has paid its dole,
I see, far down the path abhorred,
  The gleaming white light of my goal!

For primrose paths lead not to joy,
  'Tis reached across the shards of pride;
And he who'd find his better self
  Must go back where the paths divide.