While through life’s tangled paths you rove,
Watch every onward footstep duly;
And if there’s little life to love,
O love that little warmly,—truly.
Should pleasure’s rays be faint and few,
Let them their every smile retain,
And hope some future may renew
The half-extinguished light again.
While through this troubled world you rove,
Be not to its attractions blind;
And if you find not much to love,
Love well the little that you find.
Thy visitations all-benign
The earth illume—the earth o’erflow;
That ever-gracious smile of Thine
Brings light from mists and joy from woe.
(John Bowring)
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