with a passion

Arise, O Soul, and gird thee up anew,
Though the black camel Death kneel at thy gate;
No beggar thou that thou for alms shouldst sue:
Be the proud captain still of thine own fate.
~James Benjamin Kenyon (this is like, the super quick in between doing thing replies.) ;p

The supple slave
Whose worthiest record is a nameless grave,
Whose truckling spirit bends and bids him kneel,
And fawn and vilely kiss a patron's heel--
Even _he_ can cast the cursed suspicious eye,
Inquire the _cause_ of _this_--the _reason why_?

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of
Scotland, Volume XXIV., by Revised by Alexander Leighton

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/14421/14421.txt