Nearer

Nearer and ever nearer...
My body, tired but tense,
Hovers 'twixt vague pleasure
And tremulous confidence.
 
Arms to have and to use them  
And a soul to be made
Worthy, if not worthy;
If afraid, unafraid.
 
To endure for a little,
To endure and have done:  
Men I love about me,
Over me the sun!
 
And should at last suddenly
Fly the speeding death,
The four great quarters of heaven
Receive this littlle  breath.