Behold, the simple did sow, and hath reaped the right harvest of his folly:
And the world will be gladly excused, nor will reach out a finger to help;
For why should this speculative dullard be a whirlpool to all around him?
Go to, let him sink by himself: we knew what the end of it would be:—
For the man hath missed his mark, and his fellows look no further.
Also, touching guilt and innocence: a man shall walk in his uprightness
Year after year without reproach, in charity and honesty with all:
But in one evil hour the enemy shall come in like a flood;
Shall track him, and tempt him, and hem him,—till he knoweth not whither to fly.
Perchance his famishing little ones shall scream in his ears for bread,