Ah me! the vision has vanished, the music has died away!

Ah! how ugly Life can be After Love from it is lopped!

Ah! how ugly Life can beAfter Love from it is lopped!

The hymn of the low and the humble, the weary, the broken in heart, Who strove and who failed, acting bravely a silent and desperate part.

The hymn of the low and the humble, the weary, the broken in heart,Who strove and who failed, acting bravely a silent and desperate part.

I dream of the purple glory Of the roseate mountain-height And the sweet-to-remember story Of a distant and clear delight.

I dream of the purple gloryOf the roseate mountain-heightAnd the sweet-to-remember storyOf a distant and clear delight.

Do I hate you? No! Not hate? Hate's a word far too intense, Too alive, to speak a state Of supreme indifference.

Ah, yes! Success, I fear, has come too late!

Speak, History! Who are life's victors? Unroll thy long annals and say: Are they those whom the world calls the victors, who won the success of a day?