How oft are the plans of both men and of mice
'neath the footsteps of Providence trodden,
Some alternative outcome now made to suffice
For a longing subdued, not forgotten.
We plan for the future and each coming day
Discontent with the present before us,
Always borrowing more than we e'er could repay
As our wants and desires devour us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem