Into his grieving mind,
Who oft is turned from wealth’s proud door,
With many a word unkind.
3 Does any from the false world find
Naught but reproach and scorn?
Does any, stung by words unkind,
Wish that he ne’er was born?
4 Do thou raise up his drooping heart,
Restore his wounded mind;
Though naught of wealth thou canst impart