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.


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