This sturdy world is hard to knock, Though hit it as you may, It moves, unmindful of the shock,— In its accustomed way. It laughs a little cynic laugh And says: “Fall into line, Is but for the divine. “Come, son, or thou must surely die, One fool the more or less Will not provoke a mournful cry, Nor cause an hour’s distress. “So know thy best, be like the rest, And stop thy foolish knocking, Who cares for ‘vision’ and for ‘quest,’ Save one, the quest of shopping.” |