Ah Poverties, Wincings, and Sulky Retreats.

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 appe-
tites; You smarts from dissatisfied friendships, (ah wounds,
the sharpest of all;) You toil of painful and choked articulations—you mean-
nesses; You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my tongue the
shallowest of any;) You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you smoth-
er'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 be-
neath me; It shall yet stand up the soldier of unquestion'd victory.