Surrender to the thoughts that birthed you, life
Not in their own winding, they bind me not
either-- but to the will that holds them taught
With you, on their interval; I the knife --
That cuts the strand, to make captive the day
None are slaves, unless to consistency
of thought; which makes life into living death
when by their hand the knife they take away
And those who would be free should take great care
To cut the reels of memory, where they
fade into thoughts, and mingle with reason
So not to live on the mind\'s construction
But in the self, and in the moment gay
When by their hand the knife is brought to bare