Henry Ellison (1811–1880)

IT is the hardest task, the highest end,

Of all true wisdom, rightly understood,

To see the Ill, yet not o’erlook the Good,

Nor let the Ill beyond itself extend,

Nor o’er the sunny side its shadows send

Beyond its own intrinsic magnitude,

As mountains cast their shadows far, and brood

At distance, and their own real bulk transcend.

’T is hard to school the heart to be, in spite

Of injury and envy, generous still;

In seeing Good alone to take delight,

And to forget, or to forgive, the Ill:

And he who can do this, has still a right

To think godlike of man, and must, and will.