Iii

We are the toilers in the realm of night (Long, long the hours of night), We are the human lever, wheel, and bolt, That keeps the civic vehicle from jolt, And jar upon the shining track of day (The unremembered day).

We sleep away the sunlit hours of life (Unsatisfied, sad life), We wake in shadow and we rise in gloom. False as a wanton’s artificial bloom Is that made light we labour in till dawn (The lonely, laggard dawn).

Like visions half remembered in a dream (A strange and broken dream) Our children’s faces, seen but while they sleep, Within our hearts these weary hours we keep. We are the toilers in the realm of night (Long, long the hours of night).