I did not seek to live, when I was born To taste the bitter fruit of ancient wrong, And to be driven by all winds along, With outward laughter and with inward scorn, -- And now, by strife of doubt and passion torn, To follow helplessly the blinded throng, Where the weak work to strengthen more the strong, And die unwilling when the life is worn. I did not seek to live: but be it so. I will not murmur at eternal woe Nor will I mention make of joys in store, But bid in quietness the minutes flow, And watch the sad, inexplicable show, Forbidding my dumb heart to question more. |