Privilege

BLEST is the right to shareThe grief of hearts forlorn,—With other men to bearWhat must by men be borne;For night bestows dawn's orient roseAnd glories of the morn;

And as its shadow-wingLends to the sunlight worth,So out of sufferingArise the joys of earth—The good and ill, united stillAnd offspring of one birth.

Great is the gift of lifeTo him who lives indeed,A partner in the strife,The toil, the pain, that speed—Like hidden rills veined through the hills—Life's ocean-deeps to feed!