  Who lives for self alone should be Placed in some lonely, hollow tree, And left to toad and bat and owl— To creatures man considers foul— Where he shall be perpetual prey For frightful ogres night and day. A narrow soul that lives for self, Should stand on some old musty shelf, Where spiders, rats, and vermin throng, And listen only to the song Of filing saw and creaky mill, And owlet's hoot and whip-poor-will. Who lives for self is not afraid Of meanest thing God ever made, For he himself is that same thing; Though peasant, plebian, or king, He thwarts the purpose of God's plan, He lacks the impulse of a man. No soul enwrapped within itself, Or dwarfed by pride, or love of pelf, Can serve its Maker or mankind As nobly as was erst designed By the Great Architect above, Whose being is Unselfish Love. |
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