A. Beebe©
God giveth health to hearty souls
Of men who reach for lofty rings
When least of them are faltering
To weak to boast or want for things
God giveth fruit upon the branch
Of men who prosper on their land
When least of them are faltering
No bounty found upon the sand
God giveth gold to fill the purse
Of men who crouch and lay in wait
When least of them are faltering
Great work they do no wealth they make
God giveth drink upon the lips
Of men who waller in darkened dens
When least of them are faltering
Not touched by wine nor acts of sin
God giveth grace to cheerful hearts
Of men who yield to hardened souls
The least of them with empty wells
Upon God's wings to lofty goals
And for the man consumed with greed
of health and fruit and gold and drink
He now has none upon his thrown
But countless days to sit and weep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem