I would share widely, Life,
In all thy joy and strife,
Would sound thy deeps and reach they highest passion,
With thy delight and with thy suffering strife.
Whether I bide with thee in cot or palace,
I would drink deeply, Life, of thy great chalice,
Even to its bitter lees
Yea, shrinking not from these,
Since from bitterness come strength and solace
And wisdom is not won in slumberous ease.
Wan peace, uncoloured days, were a poor favour;
To lack great pain and love were to lack savour.
Life, take the heart of me,
And fill it brimmingly,
No matter with what poignant brew or flavour,
So that it may not shrunk and empty be.
Yea, Life, thus would I live, nor play at living,
The best of me for thy best gladly giving.
With an unfaltering cheer,
Greeting thee year by year.
Even in thy dourest mood some good achieving,
Until I read thy deep-hid meaning clear.