I THINK we are too ready with complaint br In this fair world of God's. Had we no hope br Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope br Of yon gray blank of sky, we might grow faint br To muse upon eternity's constraint br Round our aspirant souls; but since the scope br Must widen early, is it well to droop, br For a few days consumed in loss and taint ? br O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted br And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road br Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread br Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod br To meet the flints ? At least it may be said br ' Because the way is short, I thank thee, God.