Poems (Hoffman)/True Worth
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TRUE WORTH.
This is no place for envyings and strife,
Where Death stalks to and fro
With careless tread among the flowers of life
And bends them low.
Where Death stalks to and fro
With careless tread among the flowers of life
And bends them low.
No place for bigotry and high conceit,
Where Time with ruthless hand
Lays low the forest monarchs at his feet,
And all that man has planned.
Where Time with ruthless hand
Lays low the forest monarchs at his feet,
And all that man has planned.
We may fall short of all our highest aims,
But God alone can see
Deeper than he who censures us and blames
All that we tried to be.
But God alone can see
Deeper than he who censures us and blames
All that we tried to be.