| |
| OF Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, | |
| I cannot ease the burden of your fears, | |
| Or make quick-coming death a little thing, | |
| Or bring again the pleasure of past years, | |
| Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears, | 5 |
| Or hope again for aught that I can say, | |
| The idle singer of an empty day. | |
| |
| But rather, when aweary of your mirth, | |
| From full hearts still unsatisfied ye sigh, | |
| And, feeling kindly unto all the earth, | 10 |
| Grudge every minute as it passes by, | |
| Made the more mindful that the sweet days die— | |
| —Remember me a little then I pray, | |
| The idle singer of an empty day. | |
| |
| The heavy trouble, the bewildering care | 15 |
| That weighs us down who live and earn our bread, | |
| These idle verses have no power to bear; | |
| So let me sing of names remembered, | |
| Because they, living not, can ne’er be dead, | |
| Or long time take their memory quite away | 20 |
| From us poor singers of an empty day. | |
| |
| Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, | |
| Why should I strive to set the crooked straight? | |
| Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme | |
| Beats with light wing against the ivory gate, | 25 |
| Telling a tale not too importunate | |
| To those who in the sleepy region stay, | |
| Lulled by the singer of an empty day. | |
| |
| Folk say, a wizard to a northern king | |
| At Christmas-tide such wondrous things did show, | 30 |
| That through one window men beheld the spring, | |
| And through another saw the summer glow, | |
| And through a third the fruited vines a-row, | |
| While still, unheard, but in its wonted way, | |
| Piped the drear wind of that December day. | 35 |
| |
| So with this Earthly Paradise it is, | |
| If ye will read aright, and pardon me, | |
| Who strive to build a shadowy isle of bliss | |
| Midmost the beating of the steely sea, | |
| Where tossed about all hearts of men must be; | 40 |
| Whose ravening monsters mighty men shall slay, | |
| Not the poor singer of an empty day. | |
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