Written on the Walls of His Dungeon
Lo, where envy and where lies
Held me in the prison cell;
Blesséd was the lot that fell
To the humble and the wise
Far from earth's chagrins to dwell;
Who with thatch and homely fare
Rests him in some sylvan spot,
Lone with God abiding there,
And none else his thought to share,
Envying none, and envied not.
Held me in the prison cell;
Blesséd was the lot that fell
To the humble and the wise
Far from earth's chagrins to dwell;
Who with thatch and homely fare
Rests him in some sylvan spot,
Lone with God abiding there,
And none else his thought to share,
Envying none, and envied not.
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