| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | ||
[Why should man struggle early, late]
Why should man struggle early, late,
When all he is is fixed by Fate?
When all he is is fixed by Fate?
For everything that comes and goes,
Goes, comes at its appointed date.
Goes, comes at its appointed date.
The wind is measured as it blows,
The grains of sand have each their weight.
The grains of sand have each their weight.
Only the fool can say he chose
The woman that is now his mate.
The woman that is now his mate.
And so with friends and so with foes,
The rising and the falling State.
The rising and the falling State.
'Tis idle to support, oppose,
To open or to shut the gate.
To open or to shut the gate.
What is we see; but no one knows
What was, or will be, small or great.
What was, or will be, small or great.
Nothing is certain but the close,
And that is hid from us by Fate.
And that is hid from us by Fate.
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | ||