I soon shall be broken and bankrupt, I know!
There's no satisfaction on land or on sea,
For nothing is what I desire it to be."
Say, Pessimist, say, while you grumble and fret,
Know ye not there is One who your needs won't forget?
Think ye the kind Father of wisdom so great
Forgetteth the things which His hands did create?
The sparrow sings neither by day nor by night,
Yet He, in His tenderness, guideth its flight.
He maketh the lily of waxen-white hue,