Deemest thou laborOnly is earnest?Grave is all beauty,Solemn is joy.

Empires dissolve and peoples disappear, song passes not away.

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.

Braying of arrogant brass, whimper of querulous reeds.

Song is not Truth, not Wisdom, but the rose Upon Truths lips, the light in Wisdom's eyes.

Threadbare his songs seem now, to lettered ken: They were worn threadbare next the hearts of men.

Hate and mistrust are the children of blindness.