BOOK XXIX To Think of Time 1 To think of time—of all that retrospection, To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward.
The Past—the dark unfathom’d retrospect!
Lo soul, the retrospect brought forward, The old, most populous, wealthiest of earth’s lands, The streams of the Indus and the Ganges and their many affluents, (I my shores of America walking to-day behold, resuming all,) The tale of Alexander on his warlike marches suddenly dying, On one side China and on the other side Persia and Arabia, To the south the great seas and the bay of Bengal, The flowing literatures, tremendous epics, religions, castes, Old occult Brahma interminably farů
[VII] By That Long Scan of Waves By that long scan of waves, myself call’d back, resumed upon myself, In every crest some undulating light or shade—some retrospect, Joys, travels, studies, silent panoramas—scenes ephemeral, The long past war, the battles, hospital sights, the wounded and the dead, Myself through every by-gone phase—my idle youth—old age at hand, My three-score years of life summ’d up, and more, and past, By any grand ideal tried, intentionless, the whole a nothing, Andů
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In retrospect, I wish we had done things differently.
In retrospect, I probably could not have picked a worse time.
Stephen Chbosky -- The Perks of Being a Wallflower