Until he reached his sixteenth year nothing did deter
This clever lad from mounting to highest realms of fame,
Flowers rained upon him and life seemed but a game.
And then came years of suffering when through Envy's stings
And malice of musicians, who wished to clip his wings,
He saw the dark and dreary and rocky road of life
And soon he grew awearied of sickness, hunger, strife
And discontent within his home, for Constance whom he wed,
Was ever cross and ailing and spent her days in bed.
And though he was still youthful, not more than thirty-five,