_One Of These_

Some have robes, of silk and velvet, Cast like manna, down; Others toil through wind and weather, For a homespun gown. Some are born to ride in coaches, Sitting at their ease; Others plod foot-sore and weary. (I am one of these.)

Some have sounding name and title, Here upon the earth; Others dwell apart from glory-- No one knows their worth. Some have wealth, and fame, and beauty, All the things that please; Some are poor, and plain and lonely. (I am one of these.)

Some complain, in midst of pleasures, Of a hard, sad lot, Doubting God, denying heaven, Loving, trusting not. Others, hedged about with sorrows, Do, on bended knees, Praise and bless the Lord forever. (I am one of these.)