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IV

So small blame to us all if afeard we do be of the folk that can pry
Round the corners ahead on the road we must travel whate'er may befall,
And come scaldin' some poor crathur's heart wid bad luck he'd ne'er think of at all
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Till it dropped wid a flash at his feet like a fire-ball lit out of the sky;
And 'tis better than walkin' in grief, since you know where the black shadows lie,
That your frettin' beforehand will stir from your way when it stirs a stone wall.
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