Classic Poem

My soul grieved seven times: the first time when it tried to attain dignity by way of lowliness; the second when it limped before the crippled; the third when it was given a choice between the easy path and the rough one and chose the former; the fourth when it transgressed and consoled itself with the transgressions of others; the fifth when it feigned patience, despite its weakness, and attributed its endurance to strength; the sixth when it lifted its train from the mud of life; and the seventh when it chanted hymns before the Almighty and believed its chanting an innate virtue.