| OCR Text |
Show Just Folks It Matt A. Gu.tt THE HTMBLE MAN He did his daily, dreary task And never thought of fame to ask A wreath or crown. He fancied fortune would not see A man so commonplace as he, As up and down The walks of life he moved along, A member of the toiling throng. It never once to him occurred His voice was one that should be heard Above the crowd: He lived his life from year to year As one who had an Inward fear Of growing proud. He missed, among life's costlier . things. The bitterness that envy brings. The few red roses 'round his door Did not create the wish for more. Content was he With everything which he possessed. pos-sessed. He kept his children warmly dressed A they could be. And seemed quite hsppy with his lot. Though fame and fortune saw him not. (Copyright, 1837, for The Telegram) |