When God's wrath-cloud is o'er me, <br />Affrighting heart and mind; <br />When days seem dark before me, <br />And days seem black behind; <br />Those friends who think they know me -- <br />Who deem their insight keen -- <br />They ne'er forget to show me <br />The man I might have been. <br /> <br />He's rich and independent, <br />Or rising fast to fame; <br />His bright star is ascendant, <br />The country knows his name; <br />His houses and his gardens <br />Are splendid to be seen; <br />His fault the wise world pardons -- <br />The man I might have been. <br /> <br />His fame and fortune haunt me; <br />His virtues wave me back; <br />His name and prestige daunt me <br />When I would take the track; <br />But you, my friend true-hearted -- <br />God keep our friendship green! -- <br />You know how I was parted <br />From all I might have been. <br /> <br />But what avails the ache of <br />Remorse or weak regret? <br />We'll battle for the sake of <br />The men we might be yet! <br />We'll strive to keep in sight of <br />The brave, the true, and clean, <br />And triumph yet in spite of <br />The men we might have been.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-men-we-might-have-been/
