Classic Poem

Because mine eyes are fashioned so,
Shalt thou forsake thy house and hearth,
And like a beggar thou shalt go,
Despised of men and nothing worth.
Fair fame and fortune — all shall be
As trodden dust beneath your feet,
Because of me!

And we shall know the town at eve
Where, in the gas-illumined street,
Unhappy people make-believe,
And proven friends are few to meet —
Where lust and hunger, toil and hate,
In noisy riot pay their due
To cynic Fate.

Such bitter things and sweet shall fill
Our souls like hydromel and rue;
The weary hours that others kill
Shall wing about us strange and new;
No longer shall we need to guess
Their meaning when poor mortals play
At " No" and " Yes."

For we shall sound Life's iron strings
That do not yield to fingers gloved,
And gather from the heart of things
The most abhorred, the best beloved.
We shall not shrink from bloody strife;
Not we! Once tasted we will drain
The Cup of Life.

Contempt will follow at our heel,
And all will damn us — and in vain!
For us the solemn priests shall kneel
In prayer again and yet again.
Into the world of night we go
For ever cursed — because mine eyes
Are fashioned so!