THE SECOND BEST
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oderate tasks and moderate leisure,Quiet living, strict-kept measureBoth in suffering and in pleasure--'Tis for this thy nature yearns. But so many books thou readest,But so many schemes thou breedest,But so many wishes feedest,That thy poor head almost turns. And (the world's so madly jangled,Human things so fast entangled)Nature's wish must now be strangledFor that best which she discerns. So it _must_ be! yet, while leadingA strain'd life, while overfeeding,Like the rest, his wit with reading,No small profit that man earns, Who through all he meets can steer him,Can reject what cannot clear him,Cling to what can truly cheer him;Who each day more surely learns That an impulse, from the distanceOf his deepest, best existence,To the words, "Hope, Light, Persistence,"Strongly sets and truly burns.
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