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From: Great Works of Literature
Date: 19920101
Author:Browning, Robert
00-00-0000
Prospice
Fear death? - to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go: For the journey is done and the summit attained, And the barriers fall, Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all. I was ever a fighter, so - one fight more, The best and the last! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore, And bade me creep past. No! ...
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