If one is stronger in the limb
Or better able to work hard,
It's quite amusing to watch him
Ascending heavenward.
But if one cannot work or play
(Who loves the better part too well),
It's really sad to see the lad
Retained compulsorily in hell.
II FAILURE
We are the wasters, who have no
Hope in this world here, neither fame,
Because we cannot collar low
Nor write a strange dead tongue the same
As strange dead men did long ago.
We are the weary, who begin
The race with joy, but early fail,
Because we do not care to win
A race that goes not to the frail
And humble: only the proud come in.
We are the shadow-forms, who pass
Unheeded hence from work and play.
We are to-day, but like the grass
That to-day is, we pass away;
And no one stops to say 'Alas!'
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