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THE SINGER.
147
"Sing until the deaf ones listen,—
Sing and win a name;
Sing till human hearts, awakened,
Yield you all you claim;—
Sing and make the worldlings wonder,
Angel, sing for Fame!
Prithee sing for Fame!"

Then she tried a simple measure,
Faint and quivering;
But her sweet voice failed and trembled,
Till, poor timid thing!
All the wise ones sneered and whispered,
And she would not sing,—
No, she would not sing.

Then I said, "We two are friendless,
Poor and unconsoled;
I am growing sad and hungry,
Weary, faint, and cold:
Since you will not sing for Glory,
Angel, sing for Gold,—
Prithee sing for Gold!"