Explore "The Suicide" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Vast was the wealth I carried in life's pack -- / Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust; but Time / And Fate, those robbers fit for any crime, / Stole all, and left me but the empty sack. / Before me lay a long and lonely track / Of darkling hills and barren steeps to climb; / Behind me lay in shadows the sublime / Lost lands of Love's delight. Alack! Alack!
Unwearied, and with springing steps elate, / I had conveyed my wealth along the road. / The empty sack proved now a heavier load: / I was borne down beneath its worthless weight. / I stumbled on, and knocked at Death's dark gate. / There was no answer. Stung by sorrow's goad / I _forced_ my way into that grim abode, / And laughed, and flung Life's empty sack to Fate.