Half Awake

by Anne Whitney

Ah, working-day life,
Pain, struggle and strife --
Ado and undoing,
Action and rueing,
Much undertaking,
Yet ne'er a thing making;
Purposing featly
To break as completely!
What do I live for?
What do I grieve for?

Millions like me have lived,
Millions like me have grieved;
Of each be it said
That earth was his bed,
And there he lay dreaming:
For a day, however it seemed,
He dreamed; --for a night, he dreamed that he dreamed.