Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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My Own Place.
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
68
My Own Place.
A Rhyme for all Good Men and True.
Whoever I am, wherever my lot,
Whatever I happen to be,
Contentment and Duty shall hallow the spot
That Providence orders for me;
No covetous straining and striving to gain
One feverish step in advance,—
I know my own place, and you tempt me in vain
To hazard a change and a chance!
Whatever I happen to be,
Contentment and Duty shall hallow the spot
That Providence orders for me;
No covetous straining and striving to gain
One feverish step in advance,—
I know my own place, and you tempt me in vain
To hazard a change and a chance!
I care for no riches that are not my right,
No honour that is not my due;
But stand in my station by day, or by night,
The will of my Master to do;
He lent me my lot, be it humble or high,
And set me my business here;
And whether I live in His service, or die,
My heart shall be found in my sphere!
No honour that is not my due;
But stand in my station by day, or by night,
The will of my Master to do;
He lent me my lot, be it humble or high,
And set me my business here;
And whether I live in His service, or die,
My heart shall be found in my sphere!
If wealthy, I stand as the steward of my King;
If poor, as the friend of my Lord;
If feeble, my prayers and my praises I bring;
If stalwarth, my pen or my sword:
If wisdom be mine, I will cherish His gift;
If simpleness, bask in His love;
If sorrow, His hope shall my spirit uplift;
If joy, I will throne it above!
If poor, as the friend of my Lord;
If feeble, my prayers and my praises I bring;
If stalwarth, my pen or my sword:
If wisdom be mine, I will cherish His gift;
If simpleness, bask in His love;
If sorrow, His hope shall my spirit uplift;
If joy, I will throne it above!
The good that it pleases my God to bestow,
I gratefully gather and prize;
The evil,—it can be no evil, I know,
But only a good in disguise;
And whether my station be lowly or great,
No duty ever be mean,
The factory-cripple is fix'd in his fate
As well as a King or a Queen!
I gratefully gather and prize;
The evil,—it can be no evil, I know,
But only a good in disguise;
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No duty ever be mean,
The factory-cripple is fix'd in his fate
As well as a King or a Queen!
For duty's bright livery glorifies all
With brotherhood, equal and free,
Obeying, as children, the heavenly call,
That places us where we should be;
A servant,—the badge of my servitude shines
As a jewel invested by Heaven;
A monarch,—remember that justice assigns
Much service, where so much is given!
With brotherhood, equal and free,
Obeying, as children, the heavenly call,
That places us where we should be;
A servant,—the badge of my servitude shines
As a jewel invested by Heaven;
A monarch,—remember that justice assigns
Much service, where so much is given!
Away then with “helpings” that humble and harm
Though “bettering” trips from your tongue,
Away! for your folly would scatter the charm
That round my proud poverty hung:
I felt that I stood like a man at my post,
Though peril and hardship were there,—
And all that your wisdom would counsel me most
Is—“Leave it;—do better elsewhere.”
Though “bettering” trips from your tongue,
Away! for your folly would scatter the charm
That round my proud poverty hung:
I felt that I stood like a man at my post,
Though peril and hardship were there,—
And all that your wisdom would counsel me most
Is—“Leave it;—do better elsewhere.”
If “better” were better indeed, and not “worse,”
I might go ahead with the rest;
But many a gain and joy is a curse,
And many a grief for the best:
No!—duties are all the “advantage” I use;
I pine not for praise or for pelf;
And as for ambition, I care not to choose
My better or worse for myself!
I might go ahead with the rest;
But many a gain and joy is a curse,
And many a grief for the best:
No!—duties are all the “advantage” I use;
I pine not for praise or for pelf;
And as for ambition, I care not to choose
My better or worse for myself!
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I will not, I dare not, I cannot!—I stand
Where God has ordain'd me to be,
An honest mechanic—or lord in the land,—
He fitted my calling for me:
Whatever my state, be it weak, be it strong,
With honour, or sweat, on my face,
This, this is my glory, my strength, and my song,
I stand, like a star, in my place.
Where God has ordain'd me to be,
An honest mechanic—or lord in the land,—
He fitted my calling for me:
Whatever my state, be it weak, be it strong,
With honour, or sweat, on my face,
This, this is my glory, my strength, and my song,
I stand, like a star, in my place.
| Ballads for the Times | |