God pity us all in our pitiful strife.
God pity us all as we jostle each other,
God pardon us all for the triumph we feel,
When a fellow goes down 'neath his load on the heather
Pierced to the heart by words keener than steel
And mightier far for woe than for weal.
Were it not well, in his brief little journey,
On over the isthmus, down into the tide,
We give him a fish instead of a serpent,
Ere folding the hands to be and abide