The Man.
[Barring his way.]
This calling that you must fulfil,
This work, whereon you've set your will,
Is it so precious to you, say?
Brand.
It is my very life!
The Man.
Then stay!
[Pointedly.]
"Though you give all and life retain,
Remember, that your gift is vain."
Brand.
One thing is yours you may not spend?
Your very inmost Self of all.
You may not bind it, may not bend,
Nor stem the river of your call.
To make for ocean is its end.
The Man.
Though tarn and moorland held it fast,—
As dew 'twould reach the sea at last.
Brand.
[Looking fixedly at him.]
Who gave you power to answer thus?
The Man.
You, by your deed, you gave it us.
When wind and water raged and roar'd,
And you launch'd out through wind and wave,
When, a poor sinning soul to save,
You set your life upon a board,
