Honest fellow, sore beset,
Vext by troubles quick and keen,
Thankfully consider yet
'How much worse it might have been:'
Worthily thy faults deserve
More than all thine eyes have seen,
Think thou then with sterner nerve,
'How much worse it might have been!'

Though the night be dark and long,
Morning soon shall break serene,
And the burden of thy song,
'How much worse it might have been:'
God, the Good One, calls to us
On His Providence to lean,
Shout then out devoutly thus,
'How much worse it might have been!'