The Suppliant
- Long have I beat with timid hands upon life’s leaden
- door,
- Praying the patient, futile prayer my fathers prayed
- before,
- Yet I remain without the close, unheeded and unheard,
And never to my listening ear is borne the waited word.
- Soft o’er the threshold of the years there comes this
- counsel cool:
- The strong demand, contend, prevail; the beggar is a
- fool!