When thou art choking on the calm indifference of youth
And the everlasting beauty of trees,
Wilt thou dream only of the June,
The love of women and the great democracy of men?
When thou hast fought and failed,
And thy brow has withered laurelless,
And thy name has been effaced by the insatiable winds,
And thou hast gone out at the Western gate
To join the laggards of the dead,
Wilt thou crave only the withheld success,