Yonder silvered pavement reminds me of that white shore we believe to be beyond the death-flood. They have reached it; they walk there united. And what am I, standing here in shadow, shrinking into concealment, my mind darker than my hiding-place? I am one of this world, no spirit--a poor doomed mortal, who asks, in ignorance and hopelessness, wherefore she was born, to what end she lives; whose mind for ever runs on the question, how she shall at last encounter, and by whom be sustained through death.

 on a silver shore, beyond the death-flood. They have reached it; they walk there united. And what am I, standing here in shadow and concealment, my mind darker than my hiding-place? I am one of this world - a poor doomed mortal, who asks hopelessly why she was born, why she lives.
