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DROWNING is not so pitiful

   As the attempt to rise.

Three times, ’t is said, a sinking man

   Comes up to face the skies,

And then declines forever

   To that abhorred abode

 

Where hope and he part company,—

   For he is grasped of God.

The Maker’s cordial visage,

   However good to see,

Is shunned, we must admit it,

   Like an adversity.