In vain! in vain! I learned erewhile
Man rises not on high with wings,
But creeps the circuit of a mile
To rise a foot in spiritual things.
Even so, O Christian man! are still
Too few of tutoring leagues behind
To set thee on the little hill
Where common justice rules the mind,
Where plain humanity has sway—
Yea, even on some level higher,
Where pity doth her weeping stay,
And love offended lights a fire
That heateth judgment seven times hot
Against the bigot’s cruel ire,
Which love or reason toucheth not?
By Heaven! hast thou no heart as yet,
I’d think thy nerves would set thee wild
At sight of rapine without let,
Of slaughtered man and maid defiled,
Of homeless mother, starving child,
And of a patriotic race
Crushed in its ancient dwelling place!