Beethoven

He cursed the day when he was born;And deaf and desolate,Resolved, in bitterness forlorn,To end his hapless fate.

But as the deeper silence grew—An exile from the throng,His yearning spirit voices drewFrom inner founts of song;

And he who called unfriendly deathTo calm rebellious strife,Won from his own despair the breathOf an immortal life.