Classic Poem

Alone in the desert I stood,
Alone in the waste, the blank sands about me,
Alone with the sky and the outstretched acres of dearth,
Alone, without dream of a beyond, without wilderness or water in sight,
Alone, with the thirst of the spirit unslaked.

Alone in the city I stood,
Alone in the crowded streets, alone in the superflux of plenty,
Alone where the rest were herded, alone on the hard paves,
Alone in the halls of the savants, alone in the stress of the schools,
Alone, unfed, hungry from hungers long accumulated,
Alone, with the rein of my desire unchecked.

O what have I done to isolate me beyond the succor of companions?
O what have I done to crowd me into loneliness where men convene in assemblies?
I have offered my bonds and my vouchers, the seal of the title I bear,
I have brought the perfect pedigree of my virtue,
I have brought treasure and reputation and called them success:
But all seems alien to the one gift I missed.

What is this break in the line?
Why do I stand aghast before success?
Why do I scorn all I have won and only cherish the one thing I have not won?
Is the universe at an end and lost in me? am I the immediate agent of celestial destruction?
Is the up and down of life all compassed in the scale of my peace and pain?
What is there at the core of this earth, this heaven, this me, to preserve us against our own fires?

Resolutely I searched: with books in my hands: with voyagers ventured:
And all search was without reward all reaching forth was without fruit:
And only after I stopped searching were my eyes opened:
Then I found that the worst in me needed to be resolved into the better,
I found that the better in me needed to be resolved into the best to come, and that best and best again were to come forever,
I found that substance was passing into shadow and shadow back to substance again, without compromise,
I found that the soul was truly the body and the body was truly the soul and that each was the substance of neither,
I found that gaps filled up, that breaks mended, that sores healed, that everything was bridged and secured:
I found that nothing was left behind—that everything passed over,
I found that the soul took care of the last fabric and the final word,
I found that everything was the collateral of something else,
I found that nothing was left without its equal on the exchange,
I found that the seed was revived in the tree and that the tree passed immortally into the seed again, and that this was the formula of being,
I found that the sins and crimes of men were passed in and returned good gold,
I found that empty and full meant nothing to life when it was left to flow equably in its natural channels,
I found that no treasure could be cheated of its due or could overdraw its account,
I found that there was nowhere loss and nowhere gain: everything was promptly paid for in full,
I found that no plan could outwit the original scheme:
I found that we ran no accounts with the universe and that the universe never worried about its assets:
I found that do what I might my place could not be forfeited,
I found that do what I might nothing could be added to the measure of my station.

The desert is lost in the forest,
The sands are lost in running streams,
The city is lost in the citizen,
The hermit is lost in the hurlyburly,
The scholar is lost in the man,
The brave written words are lost in the braver lived deeds,
I am lost in myself.