When foemen bade good cheer 
To foemen, grew one clear 
Concept, ideal, divine, 
Of a god of light and laughter, of a god of wheat 
and wine. 
 
Work on, strong mind, devise 
The outer life aright ; 
Dream, subtle soul, and arise 
To noblest litanies 
That pierce the mask of night— 
In a man work lifts his eyelids, but his dreams 
lend eyes their light. 
 
So dreams and days are wed, 
And soul and body lie 
Ambrosial in Love’s bed. 
See, heaven with stars is spread— 
So glad of life am I 
If an angel came to call me I am sure I would not 
die. 
 
79