Is thy weather rough and cruel,Charged with
thunder,dark and cold? Does thy fire lacking fuel To thy
heart great misery hold? Look around,O woman's
born,Full many a soul by sorrow torn From happiness
and heaven's door is worse than thou on fortune's
floor;
Dost thou lack the wherewithal to keep thy soul and
body one? Dost thou still bemoan thy fall and think thy
weary self undone? Think again,o mortal man,and
know that since this world began men and stars have
fallen low and living things have ceased to grow. Art
thou full of wealth and life,smiled upon by fortune fair?
Does thy strength overcome all strife? Is thy learning
great and rare? Thou art not the first to gain health or
wealth or power or brain;help thy neighbour rise
today;for thou art only but dust and clay.
4 sharing it.
