O well for him who leaves at ease

With garnered gold in wide domain,

Nor heeds the splashing of the rain,

The crashing down of forest trees.-

O well for him who ne’er hath known

The travail of the hungry years,

A father grey with grief and tears,

A mother weeping all alone.-

But well for him whose feet hath trod

The weary road of toil and strife,

Yet from the sorrows of his life

Builds ladders to be nearer God.

 

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