Deep in the Muck of Unregarded Doom by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Deep in the muck of unregarded doom, / Where none can make a conquest, none have room / To stretch an aching muscle,-there might be

Interstices where impulse could go free . . .

There, where accomplishment cannot achieve, / Valour defend, religion quite believe, / Or vengeance plot behavior,-there may still / Be cracks, uneasy instinct well might fill

And even worm its way along, until / All might begin again; and Man receive

In prospect, what he never can retrieve.