Life is not a rose, nor a thorn is it:
Like a rose, Life is sweet,
Without a thorn - it's incomplete.
So true is Life a battlefield,
And many are her snares,
As Righteousness is strong a shield
And Faith like mighty spears.
As round and round the Earth doth turn
Up and down Life's seasons run:
Sorrow, now, is mounting high,
Comforts, soon, will multiply.
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