Long are the days, and overlong the nights.
The weary hours are a heavy chain
Upon the feet of all Earth’s dear delights,
Holding them ever prisoners to pain.
What shall beguile me to believe again
In hope, that Faith within her parable writes
Of life, Care reads with eyes whose teardrops stain?
Shall such assist me to subdue the heights?
Long is the night, and overlong the day.—
The burden of all being!—Is it worse
Or better, lo! that they who toil and pray
May win no more than they who toil and curse
A little sleep, a little love, ah me!
And the slow weight up the soul’s Calvary!