What gardens lie beyond I cannot say. What pyramids of doubt will block the way
does not restrain in my heart whose fervor is enough to take whatever is: acclaim or dark rebuff.
For I, of pilgrim heart, must still contend the 'enemy' is lost you make a friend.
The speaker is setting out on a journey without knowing where it leads. The opening lines admit as much: there may be gardens ahead, or there may be "pyramids of doubt" blocking the road, and the speaker simply can't say which. Doubt here is imagined as something huge and heavy, built to stand in the way.
What matters is the response. The speaker's heart is full of "fervor," enough to accept whatever comes, whether praise or a cold rejection. Calling themselves a "pilgrim" suggests a faithful, patient kind of travel, where the effort counts as much as the arrival.
The final lines turn a little puzzling but hopeful. Keep struggling on, the speaker says, and the "enemy" you set out against disappears, because you end up making a friend. The scare quotes around "enemy" hint that the opponent was never really one. The mood is steady, humble, and quietly optimistic.