Classic Poem

CXXII

Live thou gladly if so thou may.
Pine not thou in looking for me
Since that despair hath shut the way
Thou to see me or I to see thee.

Make thou a virtue of a constraint.
Deem no fault where none is worthy.
Min is too much. What needs thy plaint?
God, he knoweth who is for me.

Cast upon the Lord thy cure.
Pray unto him thy cause to judge.
Believe, and he shall send recure.
Vain is all trust of man's refuge.