Trust him little who doth raise
To one height both great and small,
And sets the sacred crown of praise,
Smiling, on the head of all.
Trust him less who looks around
To censure all with scornful eyes,
And in everything has found
Something that he dare despise.
But for one who stands apart,
Stirred by nought that can befall,
With a cold indifferent heart,--
Trust him least and last of all.
- Adelaide Anne Procter
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