To a Tycoon
Since much has been your mirth
And fair your fate,
Friend, leave your lot of earth
Less desolate.
With frailing overdue,
Why don’t you try
The bit of God in you
To justify?
Try to discern the grace
All greed above,
That may uplift the race
To realm of love.
For in you is a spark,
A heaven—glow,
That will illume the dark
Before you go.
Aye, though it be that you
To Faith are blind,
There’s one thing you can do,
It’s—just be kind.
The anguish understand,
Of hearts that bleed:
Friends, lend a helping hand
To those in need.
Autres oeuvres par Robert W. Service...
