AH poverties, wincings, and sulky retreats!
 Ah you foes that in conflict have overcome me!
 (For what is my life, or any man's life, but a conflict with foes--
 the old, the incessant war?)
 You degradations--you tussle with passions and appetites;
 You smarts from dissatisfied friendships, (ah wounds, the sharpest of
 all;)
 You toil of painful and choked articulations--you meannesses;
 You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my tongue the shallowest of
 any;)
 You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you smother'd ennuis;
 Ah, think not you finally triumph--My real self has yet to come
 forth;
 It shall yet march forth o'ermastering, till all lies beneath me; 10
 It shall yet stand up the soldier of unquestion'd victory.