We are but phantoms on the screen of life,
The reel itself is very far away;
And farther, in the cosmic Hollywood,
The actors play.
The phantoms on the screen are moving fast,
So fast that they can neither think nor see;
But they are wondering whether like the past
Or worse or better will the future be.
I know, at least, whatever be the gains
Or losses as we speed away,
That still for thee and me remains
A thought of yesterday.