To add our labor to the world’s rich dower.
How can he work? He has no inner strength
Urging him on to action, no desire
To strain and wrestle, to achieve at length,
Burning in all his veins,—a hidden fire.
Why should he work? There is no debt behind
That man’s nobility most longs to pay;
No claim upon him,—only the one blind
Brute instinct that his dinner lies that way.
And that is not enough. Who may not eat