Thou! whom Prosperity has always led O'er level paths, with moss and flow'rets strewn; For whom she still prepares a downy bed With roses scatter'd, and to thorns unknown, Wilt thou yet murmur at a mis-placed leaf? think, ere thy irritable nerves repine, How many, born with feelings keen as thine, Taste all the sad vicissitudes of grief; How many steep in tears their scanty bread; Or, lost to reason, Sorrow's victims! rave: How many know not where to lay their head; While some are driven by anguish to the grave! Think; nor impatient at a feather's weight, Mar the uncommon blessings of thy fate! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH: FOR A VIRGIN LADY by COUNTEE CULLEN A MAN BY THE NAME OF BOLUS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY A MARTYR'S MASS; FATHER MIGUEL PRO, EXECUTED AY MEXICO CITY, 1927 by ALFRED BARRETT THREE STEPS by KATHARINE LEE BATES A PASSING SONG by GUY WETMORE CARRYL THE MARRIED MAN by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. HELICON AND CITHAERON by CORINNA (6TH CENTURY B.C.) |