Must all of worth be travailled for, and those
           Life's brightest stars rise from a troubled sea?
           Must years go by in sad uncertainty
          Leaving us doubting whose the conquering blows,
          Are we or Fate the victors? Time which shows
           All inner meanings will reveal, but we
           Shall never know the upshot. Ours to be
          Wasted with longing, shattered in the throes,
           The agonies of splendid dreams, which day
           Dims from our vision, but each night brings back;
          We strive to hold their grandeur, and essay
           To be the thing we dream. Sudden we lack
          The flash of insight, life grows drear and gray,
           And hour follows hour, nerveless, slack.