Deemest thou laborOnly is earnest?Grave is all beauty,Solemn is joy.
And though circuitous and obscureThe feet of Nemesis how sure!
A dreamer of the common dreams, A fisher in familiar streams, He chased the transitory gleams That all pursue; But on his lips the eternal themes Again were new.
We hold our hate too choice a thing, for light and careless lavishing.
Empires dissolve and peoples disappear, song passes not away.
Too long, that some may rest, tired millions toil unblest.