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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXIV
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THE MOCKERY OF LIFE
 God! What a mockery is this life of ours!
 Cast forth in blood and pain from our mother`s womb,
 Most like an excrement, and weeping showers
 Of senseless tears: unreasoning, naked, dumb,
 The symbol of all weakness and the sum:
 Our very life a sufferance.--Presently,
 Grown stronger, we must fight for standing--room
 Upon the earth, and the bare liberty
 To breathe and move. We crave the right to toil.
 We push, we strive, we jostle with the rest.
 We learn new courage, stifle our old fears,
 Stand with stiff backs, take part in every broil.
 It may be that we love, that we are blest.
 It may be, for a little space of years,
 We conquer fate and half forget our tears.
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