Is your heart bowed down with sorrow;
Does your lot the hardest seem;
Think you of a brighter morrow,
Of a fairer future dream.
Have your prospects all been blighted;
Has each promise proved a snare;
Deepest wrongs are sometime righted,
Never yield you to despair.
Has the slanderer's tongue unsparing
Ruthless tarnished with its stain;
Was your good name worth the wearing —
Go and win it back again.
Would you rest where sunshine lingers;
You must toil the darkness through;
Only work with willing fingers,
Only live you brave and true.
Never care or trouble borrow,
“Trouble's real if it seems” —
Ever see a bright to-morrow,
Though you see it but in dreams.