1. She asked me, when I returned to her,
And the dust of years was on my parting,

2. "What did you find on earth after me?"
I said, "I found only water and clay."

3. It gathered beauty and shyness, steadfastness,
Fear and prohibition and madness,

4. And hope that makes thorns into meadows,
And despair that strips the branches of spring of leaves.

5. And I found love as it was before,
Trusting at times, at times suspecting,

6. And youth drunk from the wine of illusion,
Deeming the impossible a certainty.

7. So when views mature and diminish,
And sober they become guesses,

8. Faith remains a kind of
Apprehension, and beauty the cheek of deceit.

9. The rich still strut on earth,
Even if they are ignorant fools.

10. All whom I met, my soul, whether you reveal or hide,
Are like you in what you show or conceal.

11. Look once at yourself steadily,
You see the first and the last.