That make life bitter in the mouth, and strew
The dead with roses, but the quick with yew.
Better a wide and windy world, and scope
For rise and downfall of a mighty hope,
Than many little ills;
Better the sudden horror, the swift wrong,
Than doubts and cares that die not, and the long
Monotony that kills:
The empty dawns, pale stars, and narrow skies,
Mean hopes, mean fears, mean sorrows, and mean sighs. (Text.)