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He whose black robe denotes his gloomy soul,
Which burrows in dark subways like a mole,
Is but a stunted and abortive thing,
And not a man with nature sound and whole.
Which burrows in dark subways like a mole,
Is but a stunted and abortive thing,
And not a man with nature sound and whole.
Let us endure and suffer when we must,
But never mirth and happiness mistrust:
Without them what a dreary path we tread!
They are the oil of life, which else would rust.
But never mirth and happiness mistrust:
Without them what a dreary path we tread!
They are the oil of life, which else would rust.
1900
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