Oh, when to the heart of man
was it ever less than treason
to go with the drift of things
to yield with a grace to reason
and bow and accept the end
of a love, or a season?
-Robert Frost; final verse of "Reluctance"
Each man is a star, and the soul that can
renders an honest and perfect man;
Command all light, all influence, all fate
nothing to him falls too early or too late.
Our acts, our angels are, or good or ill,
our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
- The only place I've ever seen this poem is at the begining of Emerson's "Self-Reliance"; I know it references another literary piece, just don't have the reference in front of me right now.