A Reverie.Of green that crowns the western fields, And busy, active thought now yields To images of reverie. I saw at morn of this same day A poor man, blind, with sorrow bent; The few to him their pity lent, The many pushed him from the way. At noon there comes another sight__ A prisoner condemned to death; The gaping crowd with common breath Proclaim: "I knew; it serves him right." A woman, hopeless and forlorn, Sits gazing at the turbid stream, While those who shared her life's young dream, Now passing turn their heads in scorn. I stepped within a holy Place, And thought removed from worldly care To find a purer, brighter air__ Some radiance from the Throne of Grace. But here a band in holy dress, Convened in name of truth and right, With tears of penitent delight, The faults of other creeds confess. Kind charity, 'tis for thy sake I rouse me from this idle dream; Alas, in vain! the visions seem Less true in sleep than when I wake How many hope to gain renown By injuring another's name; Or strive to climb:he steeps of fame By crowding other people down. Too many zealots think to swell The praise of God by idle sound: By dealing deep damnation round, And hurling rivals down to hell. But as I ponder thus alone, An unseen spirit speaks to me: "The faults which you in others see Are but reflections of your own; Judge hot, but render unto all A word of hope, a deed of love, And pray to Him, who rules above, That unto each the best befall." ___William Simpson Jenks
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