My destiny it is tonight
 To sit with pensive brow
Beside my study fire and write
 This verse I'm making now.
This Period, this tiny dot
 My pencil has defined,
By centuries of human thought
 Was predestined.

And my last period of all
 With patience now I see;
The final point so very small,
 That locks my life for me.
Yet in eternity of time
 They relatively seem
So like,--the dot that rounds my rhyme
 Or ends my dream.

For each was preordained by Fate
 Since human life began;
So are the little and the great
 Linked in the life of man.
And as I wait without heartache
 The pencil-point of God,
To pattern predestined I make
 This------.