We live, we learn the wealth

The joyous hours may bring,

But jealous time by stealth

Puts all of it to wing;

Pursuing empty arts

We gain no noble goal,

And lose, in learning parts,

The grandeur of the whole.

If Patience, pouring tears—

She cannot but lament

The long unfruitful years

Of exile, idly spent—

Have patience, she will find

They were not all in vain,

But each has left behind

A little store of gain—

A wider wisdom bought

With labour; problems solved;

The themes of inner thought

More thoroughly revolved.

 Prev. P 40/142 next