The Story of Grettir the Strong
by William Morris
Life is inadequate, worthy of the living, poor splendor Worthy of victory In a miserable country, Where fear and pain go into both hands, How people go so far without purpose From where they come from to dim gray darkness: Let them themselves not be overshadowed, let them stand on the twilight graves of that poor line, Who counts so little in the great world game! No, I have nothing to do with the dead; This man lives, And what leads him to good and evil, Stern against fate, his voice echoing motionless from rock to rock, now lying quietly, longing with the waste of time and giving me another friend through his long failure, a life void that needs to be filled.
