A WAY OF ESCAPE

There's a way of escape through the Gate of Sorrow, A light at the end of the Path of Pain: But our joy and our love can have no to-morrow, And to drink is to sink to the earth again.

There is death in the breath when our lips draw nigher, And we lay waste the plain for a flower to grow; And we build up the tower of an hour's desire With dust from the pit of its overthrow.