He Strove

He strove against the world, and all the lethagy it contains,

The doleful march of men unable to see beyond their little lanes.

He strove against the moon, Relentless ruler of the tide,

He swore that when his fate'd come, he'd be ready just in time;

He strove against the land, the air, the sun, the sea,

The little folk who laugh, and throw stones at you and me;

He strove against the grain, he strove against the sand,

He hoped to build a magic fortress and do it all by his mind;

He strove against the pull, he strove against the tow, - Of a thousand years -

He said that its the stubbornest men, who have the best careers.

He strove so long, so hard, so proud, against shallow conformity,

The sorry thing was, - so exhausted with striving was he - he never did leave his dormitary!