The wheel is daily turned,
And daily comes the prize;
But yet somehow they never call my name.
I've labored many years—
The thing that causes tears;
Always I have returned just as I came.
Ofttimes it seems too hard;
I think no more to try;
It seems as though there is no prize for me.
A spark of hope will blaze,
And courage it will raise;
Again among the throng I now will be.
Always won't be this way;
Ah, soon will come my day.
The wheel of fortune will be justly turned;
Just as it makes its round
My name will then be found;
And then I'll get the prize for which I yearned.