Of glittering gains upon a perilous road,
Stirred by wild whirling words to keen elation,
Pricked on by poverty's imperious goad;
Hoping,—as who of hope shall be forbidden?—
Striving,—as who hath not the right to strive?—
For flaunted gain through perils shrewdly hidden!
Oh, labourers hard in Industry's huge hive,
What wonder, if, ill-paid and tired, you hasten
To follow the loud bauble and the lure,
Or gird at those who your wild hopes would chasten,