Go, take thine angle, and with practised line,

Light as the gossamer, the current sweep;

And if thou failest in the calm, still deep,

In the rough eddy may a prize be thine.

Say thou'rt unlucky where the sunbeams shine;

Beneath the shadow where the waters creep

Perchance the monarch of the brook shall leap—

For Fate is ever better than Design.

Still persevere; the giddiest breeze that blows

For thee may blow with fame and fortune rife.

Be prosperous; and what reck if it arose

Out of some pebble with the stream at strife,

Or that the light wind dallied with the boughs:

Thou art successful—such is human life.