Blessed are those who have not known
    The things that stand before them,
And for a vision of their own
    Can piously ignore them.

So let me think whate’er befall,
    That in the city duly
Some men there are who love at all,
    Some women who love truly;

And that upon two millions odd
    Transgressors in sad plenty,
Mercy will of a gracious God
    Be shown—because of twenty.