The light and shade, the curious sense of body and identity, the greed that with perfect complaisance devours all things, The endless pride and outstretching of man, unspeakable joys and sorrows, The wonder every one sees in every one else he sees, and the wonders that fill each minute of time forever, What have you reckon’d them for, camerado? Have you reckon’d them for your trade or farm-work? or for the profits of your store? Or to achieve yourself a position? or to fill a gentleman’s leisure, or a lady’s leisure?