Though Pride may show some nobleness,
When Honor's its ally,
Yet there is such a thing on earth
As holding heads too high!
The sweetest bird builds near the ground,
The loveliest flower springs low,
And we must stoop for happiness,
If we its worth would know.
Like water that encrusts the rose,
Still hardening to its core,
So Pride encases human hearts
Until they feel no more.
Shut up within themselves they live,
And selfishly they end
A life that never kindness did
To kindred, or to friend!
Whilst Virtue, like the dew of Heaven,
Upon the earth descends,
And draws its hidden sweetness out
The more—as more it bends!
For there's a strength in lowliness
Which nerves us to endure—
A heroism in distress,
Which renders victory sure.
The humblest being born is great,
If true to his degree—
His virtue illustrates his fate,
Whatever that may be!
Then let us daily learn to love
Simplicity and worth;
For not the eagle, but the dove,
Brought peace unto the earth.—[Charles Swain]