In a world like this,
When in misanthropic,
Cheerless mood, I wis,
Tired I take my flight,
Far from Love's warm tropic,—
Then I fret and sigh:
Better 'tis to die
Than to fawn and follow
With false look submiss,
Meeting day and night
Heartless hearts and hollow,
In a world like this.

In a world like this,
Trade's a daily duel,
If your aim you miss;
And I hear them say:
“Woods are made for fuel,
Not for poets' nooks,
Day-dreams, birds and brooks;
Bees are but for honey;
For our gospel is,
Seek the things that pay,
Make not men but money,
In a world like this.

In a world like this,
How the sleek saints palter!
Give the Iscariot's kiss
With the blessed wine
Poured upon Christ's altar!
Measure Man by rules,
Shut up God in schools,
Sound with three-foot plummet
Life's and Death's abyss,
Call their lore divine—
Egoists consummate
In a world like this!

In a world like this …!
Yet, when I remember
All the love and bliss
Showered on man from May
Down to Life's December,
Beauty beyond odds,
Banquetings with Gods,
Mornings with Apollo.
Nights with Artemis;
Then I answer, Nay,
All's not hard and hollow
In a world like this.