Drowning is not so pitiful

      As the attempt to rise.

Three times, 't is said, a sinking man

      Comes up to face the skies,

And then declines forever

      To that abhorred abode

Where hope and he part company,—

      For he is grasped of God.

The Maker's cordial visage,

      However good to see,

Is shunned, we must admit it,

      Like an adversity.