Under a sky so dark and drear—
How on the soul came Care and Pain,
Twin-sisters of the soulless Real,
The race and haggle for the gain
That those who win the world must feel.
The striving to become a part
Of that great sea whose tideings ever
Bears on its waves each manly heart,
That, struggling, droops its pinions never.
And now there is a bridal throng