When I Read the Book

When I read the book, the biography famous,

And is this then （said I） what the author calls a man's life?

And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?

（As if any man really knew aught of my life,

Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of my real life,

Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections,

I seek for my own use to trace out here.）