One of These

Some have robes, of silk and velvet,
Cast like manna, down;
Others toil through wind and weather,
For a homespun gown.
Some are born to ride in coaches,
Sitting at their ease;
Others plod foot-sore and weary.
(I am one of these.)

Some have sounding name and title,
Here upon the earth;
Others dwell apart from glory--
No one knows their worth.
Some have wealth, and fame, and beauty,
All the things that please;
Some are poor, and plain and lonely.
(I am one of these.)

Some complain, in midst of pleasures,
Of a hard, sad lot,
Doubting God, denying heaven,
Loving, trusting not.
Others, hedged about with sorrows,
Do, on bended knees,
Praise and bless the Lord forever.
(I am one of these.)