by Richard Lynott O'Malley
I met a man on Life's thronged way,
And thought at once that man was good;
I learned to know him; strange to say,
Still thought I that the man was good.
A virtue loves he, not for praise,
But for that virtue's sake; to daze
By show disdained he, Years his ways
I watched, and still, O still I thought him good.
Ah! ask you why, amidst the van
Of heroes, place I him who ran
His race of life in goodness true?
Ask you what marvel did he do?
Duty to God, and self, and man!
He ended good as he began;
Such men, alas, are few!