Keep Your Temper - A poem by Ellen P. Allerton

Keep Your Temper.

It never did, and never will,
Put things in better fashion,
Though rough the road, and steep the bill,
To fly into a passion.

And never yet did fume or fret
Mend any broken bubble;
The direst evil, bravely met,
Is but a conquered trouble.

Our trials^___did we only know^___
Are often what we make them;
And mole.hills into mountains grow,
Just by the way we take them.

Who keeps his temper, calm and cool,
Will find his wits in season;
But rage is weak, a foaming fool,
With neither strength nor reason.

And if a thing be hard to bear
When nerve and brain are steady,
If fiery passions rave and tear,
It finds us maimed already.

Who yields to anger conquered lies^___
A captive none can pity;
Who rules his spirit, greater is
Than he who takes a city.

A hero he, though drums are mute,
And no gay banners flaunted;
He treads his passions under foot,
And meets the world undaunted.

Oh, then, to bravely do our best,
Howe'er the winds are blowing;
And meekly leave to God tine rest,
Is wisdom worth the knowing!

^__Ellen P. Allerton.