Wo to us, when our pride becomes our truth
And hollow-hearted selfishness our trust,
With age’s avarice creeping over youth,
And clothing all things in corroding rust!
Pride is frail hold on virtue, yet ’tis all
That binds me to one deed of human hope;
Let me forget my pride and I shall fall
So low contempt will lose me in its scope!
How long shall this frail pride support my name?
How long ere malice o’er my head shall creep.