Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/75



Of the scraps we got Together, a few crumbs we've brought

Though you give all, and life retain, I tell you that your gift is vain.

Had he to-day, who now lies dead, By mortal peril been bested, And I had heard his foundering cry, I also would have dared to die.

But peril of the Soul you slight?

Well, we're but drudgers day by day.

Then from the downward-streaming light Turn your eyes utterly away; And cease to cast the left askance At heaven, while with the right you glance Down at the mould where, crouching low, Self-harness'd in the yoke you go.

I thought you'd say we ought to shake us Free of the yoke we toil in?

Yea, If you are able.