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From the October 1938 issue of The Christian Science Journal

As by Bethesda, weak, afflicted sore, I lie, so wearily, day after day, My hope seems centered in some troubled pool, But no one comes to help me on my way. Unmindfully, I see not present good— Self-pitying, absorbed in mine own pain; Forgetting to give thanks for what I have; Forgetting to rejoice in others' gain.