And then, unchanged by loss or gain,
Treats all his neighbors just the same!
The man, who, if he liked you once,
Still likes you, though he’s gained success;
Who plays a man’s part all the time,
And blames no friend for his distress.
Similar Posts
Mother and the baby! Oh, I know no lovelier pair,
And be the baby in his cot or nestling in her arms,The picture they present is one with never-fading charms.Mother and the baby—and the mother’s eye aglowWith joys that only mothers see and only mothers know!And here is all there is to strife and all there is to fame,And all that men have struggled for…
OUT of the darkness and shadow of death,
Into the splendor of spiritual breath,Now we have burst like a lily in bloom;Sweetened is sorrow and strengthened is hope,Death and the grave have been robbed of their sting;Doubting, despairing, no longer we grope,Man has been given the courage to sing.Easter! the birthday of hope and of peace!Easter! the bulwark of all we believe;Lo, all…
He swore that he’d be true to her,
That as his wife, throughout his lifeShe’d never know a moment grim.He vowed that he would toil for her,That she should wear the latest things,He’d robe in furs that form of hersAnd deck her hands with diamond rings.He promised her a motor car,And maids to answer her commands;In water hot, with dish and potHe swore…
The saddest sort of death to die
And know, beneath the gentle sky,You’d lived a slacker in the strife.That nothing men on earth would findTo mark the spot that you had filled;That you must go and leave behindNo patch of soil your hands had tilled.I know no greater shame than this:To feel that yours were empty years;That after death no man would…
These are the lessons I would learn,
Not how the greatest sums to earn,Not how to wield a master pen;But I would learn how I can beA little kinder than before,How I can live more patientlyAnd help my friends a little more.And I would learn to better showMy gratitude for favors had,To see more of the good belowAnd less of what I…
I”D rather be considered dull
I’d rather not be criticalAnd utter words that carry stings.I’d rather never speak at allThan speak as one who seems to feelThat other’s faults, howe’er so small,It proves him clever to reveal.I have no wish to pose on earthAs born to judge my fellow men;I’d rather praise them for their worth;If failures, bid them try…