(no subject)
Invisible beneath his bale of branches, bent
As much by years as by the weight upon his back,
A poor woodcutter hobbled, groaning as he went
Along the pathway winding to his wretched shack.
At last, when pain and effort had exhausted him,
He let his burden fall and, standing there, began
To catalogue his miseries. In all his time,
What pleasures had he ever known? Had any man
Been half so poor, so lacking bread, with never rest
From crying brats and grinding rent, demanding swarms
Of tax men, usurers, rough men-at-arms:
A picture of despair that left him so depressed
That he called out for death. And there at once she stood,
To ask what she might do for him today.
"Just help," he said, "lift back this wood
Upon my back and then be gone without delay."
Heaven puts all pains to rest-
Still, we prefer this earth instead.
The motto on our human crest
Reads, "Better to suffer than be dead."
As much by years as by the weight upon his back,
A poor woodcutter hobbled, groaning as he went
Along the pathway winding to his wretched shack.
At last, when pain and effort had exhausted him,
He let his burden fall and, standing there, began
To catalogue his miseries. In all his time,
What pleasures had he ever known? Had any man
Been half so poor, so lacking bread, with never rest
From crying brats and grinding rent, demanding swarms
Of tax men, usurers, rough men-at-arms:
A picture of despair that left him so depressed
That he called out for death. And there at once she stood,
To ask what she might do for him today.
"Just help," he said, "lift back this wood
Upon my back and then be gone without delay."
Heaven puts all pains to rest-
Still, we prefer this earth instead.
The motto on our human crest
Reads, "Better to suffer than be dead."