And it suits me fine To be spared the praise And the chiefest seats And the halcyon days. To be spared the looks From the madding crowd; To be seldom heard Or rehearsed out loud. Yes, and spared the rush Of all fashion’s rage And the polished pose On the social page. For the ones who fret At this driving rate Out of fear of men (Though the sham they hate) Are a bankrupt lot When the band is gone, And they have to face Just themselves, alone. Yes I’m spared from this In a simple life With a needful job And a faithful wife. And a God who comes To embrace a while; And I feel His touch And I hear His smile.