The Rubicon Poem by William Winter

One other bitter drop to drink,
And then - no more!
One little pause upon the brink,
And then - go o'er!
One sigh - and then the lib'rant morn
Of perfect day,
When my free spirit, newly born,
Will soar away!

One pang - and I shall rend the thrall
Where grief abides,
And generous Death will show me all
That now he hides;
And, lucid in that second birth,
I shall discern
What all the sages of the earth
Have died to learn.

One motion - and the stream is crossed,
So dark, so deep!
And I shall triumph, or be lost
In endless sleep.
Then, onward! Whatso'er my fate,
I shall not care!
Nor Sin nor Sorrow, Love nor Hate,
Can touch me there.