I greet the challenge of the dawn
With weary, bleary eyes;
Into the sky so ashen wan
I wait the sun to rise;
Then in the morning’s holy hush,
With heart of shame I hear
A robin from a lilac bush
Pipe pure and clear.
All night in dive and dicing den,
With wantons and with wine
I’ve squandered on wild, witless men
The fortune that was mine;
The gold my father fought to save
In folly I have spent;
And now to fill a pauper’s grave
My steps are bent.
See! how the sky is amber bright!
The thrushes thrill their glee.
The dew-drops sparkle with delight,
And yonder smiles the sea.
Oh let me plunge to drown the pain
Of love and faith forgot:
Then purged I may return again,
—Or I may not.