The man, perhaps,
Thou pitiest, draws his comfort from distress.
That mind so poised, and centred in the good
Supreme, so kindle with devotion’s flame,
Might, with prosperity’s enchanting cup
Inebriate, have forgot the All-giving hand;
Might on earth’s vain and transitory joys
Have built its sole felicity, nor e’er
Winged a desire beyond.
George Bally.