Wonderful days

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above
Those that I fight I do not hate
Those that I guard I do not love
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
But a lonely impulse of delight.
Thrown to this tumult in the clouds
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behin
In balance with this life, this death.