With Esther

HE who has once been happy is for aye  Out of destruction's reach.

His fortune

Holds nothing secret; and Eternity,  Which is a mystery to other men,

Has like a woman given him its joy.  Time is his conquest.

Life, if it should fret.

Has paid him tribute.

He can bear to die,  He who has once been happy!

When I

The world before me and survey its range,  Its mean ambitions, its scant fantasies,

The shreds of pleasure which for lack of change  Men wrap around them and call happiness,

The poor delights which are the tale and

Of the world's courage in its martyrdom;

When I hear laughter from a tavern door,  When I see crowds agape and in the

Watching on tiptoe and with stifled roar  To see a rocket fired or a bull slain,

When misers handle gold, when orators  Touch strong men's hearts with glory till they weep,

When cities deck their streets for barren wars  Which have laid waste their youth, and when I

Calmly the count of my own life and see  On what poor stuff my manhood's dreams were

Till I too learn'd what dole of vanity  Will serve a human soul for daily bread,—Then I remember that I once was

And lived with Esther the world's gods among.