Chapter 38
What might be done if men were wise-- What glorious deeds, my suffering brother, Would they unite In love and right, And cease their scorn of one another!
Oppression's heart might be imbued With kindling drops of loving-kindness, And knowledge pour From sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e Light on the eyes of mental blindness.
All slavery, warfare, lies, and wrongs, All vice and crime, might die together; And wine and corn To each man born Be free as warmth in summer weather.
The meanest wretch that ever trod, The deepest sunk in guilt and sorrow, Might stand erect In self-respect, And share the teeming world to-morrow.
What might be done? This might be done.
And more than this, my suffering brother; More than the tongue E'er said or sung If men were wise and loved each other.
--Charles Mackay.
If I could see A brother languis.h.i.+ng in sore distress, And I should turn and leave him comfortless, When I might be A messenger of hope and happiness-- How could I ask to have that I denied In my own hour of bitterness supplied?
If I might share A brother's load along the dusty way, And I should turn and walk alone that day, How could I dare-- When in the evening watch I kneel to pray-- To ask for help to bear my pain and loss, If I had heeded not my brother's cross?
SHARED
I said it in the meadow path, I say it on the mountain-stairs: The best things any mortal hath Are those which every mortal shares.
The air we breathe--the sky--the breeze-- The light without us and within-- Life with its unlocked treasuries-- G.o.d's riches, are for all to win.
The gra.s.s is softer to my tread For rest it yields unnumbered feet; Sweeter to me the wild-rose red Because she makes the whole world sweet.
Into your heavenly loneliness Ye welcomed me, O solemn peaks!
And me in every guest you bless Who reverently your mystery seeks.
And up the radiant peopled way That opens into worlds unknown It will be life's delight to say, "Heaven is not heaven for me alone."
Rich through my brethren's poverty!
Such wealth were hideous! I am blest Only in what they share with me, In what I share with all the rest.
--Lucy Larcom.
UNCHARITABLENESS NOT CHRISTIAN
I know not if 'twas wise or well To give all heathens up to h.e.l.l-- Hadrian--Aurelius--Socrates-- And others wise and good as these; I know not
May every soul that touches mine-- Be it the slightest contact--get therefrom some good, Some little grace, one kindly thought, One inspiration yet unfelt, one bit of courage For the darkening sky, one gleam of faith To brave the thickening ills of life, One glimpse of brighter skies beyond the gathering mists, To make this life worth while, And heaven a surer heritage.
SOCIAL CHRISTIANITY
O for a closer walk with man!
Sweet fellows.h.i.+p of soul, Where each is to the other bound, Parts of one living whole.
Our Father, G.o.d, help us to see That all in thee are one; O warm our hearts with thy pure love, Strong as your glorious sun.
Pride, envy, selfishness will melt Beneath that kindling fire; Our brother's faults we scarce shall see, But good in all admire.
No bitter cry of misery Shall ever pa.s.s unheard; But gentle sympathy spring forth In smile and strengthening word.
And when our brother's voice shall call From lands beyond the sea, Our hearts in glad response will say, "Here, Lord, am I, send me."
O Jesus Christ, thou who wast man, Grant us thy face to see; In thy light shall we understand What human life may be.
Then daily with thy Spirit filled, According to thy word, New power shall flow through us to all, And draw men near our Lord.
Thus will the deep desire be met With which our prayer began; A closer walk with Thee will mean A closer walk with man.
If any little word of mine may make a life the brighter, If any little song of mine may make a heart the lighter, G.o.d help me speak the little word, and take my bit of singing, And drop it in some lonely vale to set the echoes ringing.
If any little love of mine may make a life the sweeter, If any little care of mine make other life completer, If any lift of mine may ease the burden of another, G.o.d give me love and care and strength to help my toiling brother.
CHARITY NOT JUSTICE
Outwearied with the littleness and spite, The falsehood and the treachery of men, I cried, "Give me but justice!" thinking then I meekly craved a common boon which might Most easily be granted; soon the light Of deeper truth grew on my wondering ken, (Escaping baneful damps of stagnant fen), And then I saw that in my pride bedight I claimed from erring man the gift of Heaven-- G.o.d's own great vested right; and I grew calm, With folded hands, like stone, to patience given, And pitying, of pure love distilling balm; And now I wait in quiet trust to be All known to G.o.d--and ask of men sweet charity.
--Elizabeth Oakes Smith.
G.o.d SAVE THE PEOPLE
When wilt thou save the people, O G.o.d of mercy, when?
Not kings alone, but nations?
Not thrones and crowns, but men?
Flowers of thy heart, O G.o.d, are they: Let them not pa.s.s, like weeds, away-- Their heritage a sunless day.
G.o.d save the people!
Shall crime bring crime forever, Strength aiding still the strong?
Is it thy will, O Father, That man shall toil for wrong?
"No," say thy mountains, "No," thy skies; Man's clouded sun shall brightly rise, And songs ascend instead of sighs.
G.o.d save the people!
When wilt thou save the people?
O G.o.d of mercy, when?
The people, Lord, the people, Not thrones and crowns, but men?
G.o.d save the people; thine they are, Thy children, as thine angels fair; From vice, oppression, and despair, G.o.d save the people!
--Ebenezer Elliott.
HYMN OF THE CITY