Classic Poem

When one has lived
'Tis not so hard
To fold the hands,
To say, “Good-night,”
And creep away
Behind the dark;
But 'tis not strange
The heart rebels
When sounds of night
Ring down the day
That was a weary, joyless way
From early dawn
To setting sun:
How eagerly we trail the light
For crumbs of happiness we fend,
And struggle, struggle—to the end!