The speaker warns a passer-by who imagines Fate is an outside trap that foresight and wisdom can avoid. Looking at other people’s troubles, we tend to feel like gods staring down at an anthill, certain we would sidestep the same mistakes. But the speaker insists that when you actually enter life, Fate will find you anyway. It won’t come as some external accident. It will appear as your own reflection in the mirror, or as a guest sitting quietly by your hearth—someone you immediately recognize, whose eyes carry a message you cannot ignore. The mood is intimate, eerie, and resigned. There is no escape, because Fate is not separate from who you are; it rises from within and sits beside you like an old acquaintance.
Lyman King — Summary
You may think, passer-by, that Fate Is a pit-fall outside of yourself, Around which you may walk by the use of foresight And wisdom. Thus you believe, viewing the lives of other men, As one who in God-like fashion bends over an anthill, Seeing how their difficulties could be avoided. But pass on into life: In time you shall see Fate approach you In the shape of your own image in the mirror; Or you shall sit alone by your own hearth, And suddenly the chair by you shall hold a guest, And you shall know that guest And read the authentic message of his eyes.