Of midnight oils. Catch hold on life again
Ere it be flown! You know the tale that’s told,
How to my door an Emperor came of old
And begged, but would not enter. Fortune’s clown,
Burdened with power, he durst not lay it down!
But there’s another tale, that’s yet to tell,
Of one that came, and—loving peace too well,—
Would not go out! Indolent and unmoved,
Gifted with powers, he feared to have them proved!
Chosen of gods, the gods he chose to cheat,