The pessimist

O for the time when I shall sleep without Identity,

And never care how rain or snow may cover me!

No promised Heav'n these wild Desires

Could all or half fulfill;

No threatened Hell with quenchless fires

subdue this quenchless will!

So said I, and still say the same;

Still to my Death will say

Three Gods within this little frame

Are warring night and day.

Heaven could not hold them all

Yet they all are held in me,

And must be mine till I forget

My present entity.

O for the time when in my breast

Their struggles will be o'er;

O for the day when I shall rest

And never suffer more!