When we count ringing triumphs won In self-satisfied delight, Then in this petty, hollow sight God's finger goes unnoticed, gone.
We forget that from the fight Of yesterday's afflictions sore, The prayers of loved ones held us sure, Shielding us from pain and blight.
In contemplation's deeper way, Our souls must come to understand That all we have in life's own land— The pilgrim's long and arduous day— Comes from the Almighty's hand.
