IX

VIII. Life's Trades.

It's such a little thing to weep,
So short a thing to sigh;
And yet by trades the size of these
We men and women die!

Drowning is not so pitiful
As the attempt to rise.
Three times, 't is said, a sinking man
Comes up to face the skies,
And then declines forever
To that abhorred abode
Where hope and he part company, —
For he is grasped of God.
The Maker's cordial visage,
However good to see,
Is shunned, we must admit it,
Like an adversity.