"Written on his death-bed, lying in his anguish."
modernised by R.H.H. [Richard Henry Horne].
Originally published in Douglas Jerrold's Shilling Magazine (Punch) vol.2 #11 (Nov 1845).
Fly from the crowd and dwell with Truthfulness;
Make what thou hast suffice, though it be small,
For hoard brings hate, and climbing, doubts distress;
Struggle breeds envy, good grows blind o'er all.
Taste thou no more than to thy fair share fall:
Read well thyself who others read'st so clear,
And Truth shall thee deliver, there's no fear.
Vex not thy heart each failure to redress,
In trust of[1] her who turneth like a ball;
Great rest doth stand in little business;
See that thou dost not spurn against a nall;[2]
Strive not as doth a pitcher with a wall;
Judge well thyself who others judgest clear,
And Truth shall thee deliver, there's no fear.
What Heaven sends, take thou in obedience;
The wrestling of this world includes a fall:
Here is no home; here is but wilderness:
Pilgrim, go forth!—forth beast out of thy stall!
Lookup on high and thank the God of all!
Leave base desires, and let thy soul thee steer,
And Truth shall thee deliver, there's no fear.
1. Meaning—But trust to, &c.
2. Nall—a nail.