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16 | In This Our World But, for Heaven’s sake, if you are ahead, Don’t dawdle at your ease! You set the pace for the man behind; Step faster, please! A New Year’s Reminder Better have a tender conscience for the record of your house, And your own share in the work which they have done, Though your private conscience aches With your personal mistakes, And you don’t amount to very much alone, Than to be yourself as spotless as a baby one year old, Your domestic habits wholly free from blame, While the company you stand with Is a thing to curse a land with, And your public life is undiluted shame. For the deeds men do together are what saves the world to-day By our common public work we stand or fall— And your fraction of the sin Of the office you are in Is the sin that’s going to damn you, after all! Out of Place Cell, poor little cell, Distended with pain, Torn with the pressure Of currents of effort Resisted in vain; Feeling sweep by you The stream of nutrition, Unable to take; Crushed flat and inactive, While shudder across you Great forces that wake; Alone—while far voices Across all the shouting Call you to your own; Held fast, fastened close, Surrounded, enveloped, How you starve there alone! Cell, poor little cell, Let the pain pass—don’t hold it! Let the effort pass through you! Let go! And give way! ...

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