You’ve made the pace willing in numberless bars,
You have sung, and recited, and yapped;
You have slept a drunk’s sleep ’neath the pitying stars,
You have squandered and borrowed and strapped—
[163] ]You have struck every note, the sublime to the lewd,
But, alas, from Despondency’s slough,
May I ask in a friendly and brotherly mood,
Say, what do you think of it now?
You have played the pied piper and danced the fool’s dance
’Mid the smiles of well-ballasted men