by Christina Georgina Rossetti(1830-1894)
All others are outside myself;I lock my door and bar them outThe turmoil, tedium, gad-about.
I lock my door upon myself,And bar them out; but who shall wallSelf from myself, most loathed of all?
If I could once lay down myself,And start self-purged upon the raceThat all must run ! Death runs apace.
If I could set aside myself,And start with lightened heart uponThe road by all men overgone!
God harden me against myself,This coward with pathetic voiceWho craves for ease and rest and joys
Myself, arch-traitor to myself ;My hollowest friend, my deadliest foe,My clog whatever road I go.
Yet One there is can curb myself,Can roll the strangling load from meBreak off the yoke and set me free.