Of course you won’t get up again
Yet Obermann, ’tis better so;
For if, sad slumberer, after all
We were to re-arise you know
’Twould make us feel so very small.
Best bear our grief this manlier way,
And make our grief be balm to grief
For if in faith sweet comfort lay
There lurks sweet pride in unbelief.
Wherefore remembering this once more,