Poems (Hoffman)/True Worth
TRUE WORTH.
This is no place for envyings and strife,Where Death stalks to and froWith careless tread among the flowers of life And bends them low.
No place for bigotry and high conceit,Where Time with ruthless handLays 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 seeDeeper than he who censures us and blames All that we tried to be.