Classic Poem

Shall I conceal myself somewhere and cry inaudibly, with bowed head — and dry again my tired eyes that never, never have any rest —
And let, as heretofore, my glance wander off into gray distances and cast it hither-thither, pursuing fortune in morbid anxiety —
Or shall I cast myself in wild despair into the gutter with flaming eyes and, tigress-like, growl in pain, with nostrils distended in heavy breath —
Or shall I hide myself somewhere and cry inaudibly with bowed head? — — —