Glad hours in play; there, laughter ne’er was heard,
And day was endless day, and night ne’er came
With tired husband seeking home and wife,
And “home” was but a mocking echo there.
And walking o’er that world I met a man,
Or ghost of what was man, wan, staring-eyed,
And bowed as though with age, albeit his locks
Were fair, and seeming youthful was his face;
And unto him I said in question: “Why
This waste and desolation, and where are