And made by the Maker of all beside.
Although I'm so poor, I naught to lose;
Still I'm so little I can't be lost!
I journey about, wherever I choose,
And those who carry me bear the cost.
The most forgiving of earthly things,
I often cling to my deadly foe;
And, spite of the cruellest flirts and flings,
Arise by the force that has cast me low.
When beauty has trodden me under foot,