Page:Songs and Sonnets (1906).djvu/128



the dim hours come and go,
 * A hooded, listless file of shadows pale;
 * Men's deeds like visions pass, and scarce avail

To stir dull thought or give it ebb or flow; The hopes that pushed us Heavenward once, aglow
 * With passionate desire, now flag and fail;
 * The lights have vanished, and the wine grown stale,

The blade is rusted and unstrung the bow.

Oh, better far to climb the toilsome height
 * Than linger in the valley's flowered way,

Far better in a losing cause to fight
 * Than feel one's sinews wasting day by day;

Give me the hemlock draught and dreamless night,
 * Before this daily death of apathy!