Page:Poems Blake.djvu/114

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106
THE DIFFERENCE.
And then a Future comes. You wait
Or shudder as the thought comes nigh
Of that dread time, when chance or fate
Will call your mightiness—to die.
  I, through all pain, within my breast
  Still hold the promised boon of rest.

So though I own you nobly born,
Above me, by the world's decree,
I answer back your scorn with scorn,
And smile upon your high degree,
  Content while heart and soul are given
  For life on earth and faith in heaven.