 | Thoughts in Verse |  |
111
OF ONE BLOOD.
Who taught thee, man, thy brother to despise?
By nature art thou favored more, or wise
As gods? Art thou in untaught state beclothed
In strength of mind, with lofty thought endowed?
Nay, nay, like him, untaught, thou art unwise;
Like unfledged bird, which neither sees nor flies,
Thou, too, art helpless—looked upon with scorn;
Were truth withheld, for thee would break no morn.
But God has granted thee enlightenment—
Upon thee beamed His gracious countenance.
The gift bestowed, in meekness thou shouldst use;
And not with pride this priceless gift abuse;
For all these things, He doth of thee demand
That thou shalt scatter with a willing hand.
By nature art thou favored more, or wise
As gods? Art thou in untaught state beclothed
In strength of mind, with lofty thought endowed?
Nay, nay, like him, untaught, thou art unwise;
Like unfledged bird, which neither sees nor flies,
Thou, too, art helpless—looked upon with scorn;
Were truth withheld, for thee would break no morn.
But God has granted thee enlightenment—
Upon thee beamed His gracious countenance.
The gift bestowed, in meekness thou shouldst use;
And not with pride this priceless gift abuse;
For all these things, He doth of thee demand
That thou shalt scatter with a willing hand.
Thy brother lacks the opportunity,
But spite of drawbacks, thou canst plainly see
That in a score of years he well has climbed;
More favored ones has quickly left behind.
Thou sayst with scorn that he can never reach
That high enlightenment that thou wouldst teach;
In all things vie with thee, in each pursuit
To gain success; with power to touch the lute—
And sound inspiring chords from sphere to sphere,
To swell majestic down the echoing years!
Remember what thou wast in years agone,
When thou, in thy forefather's loins didst roam
In nakedness, and a barbarian trod
The wild! Then know that all men are of God!
But spite of drawbacks, thou canst plainly see
That in a score of years he well has climbed;
More favored ones has quickly left behind.
Thou sayst with scorn that he can never reach
That high enlightenment that thou wouldst teach;
In all things vie with thee, in each pursuit
To gain success; with power to touch the lute—
And sound inspiring chords from sphere to sphere,
To swell majestic down the echoing years!
Remember what thou wast in years agone,
When thou, in thy forefather's loins didst roam
In nakedness, and a barbarian trod
The wild! Then know that all men are of God!
| Thoughts in Verse | |