To sit in judgment on our fellow-man
Is awkward work, if we the truth confess;
For though with eyes severe his deeds we scan,
Brought to the bar of our self-righteousness,
How well we know that every fault we find,
The folly, weakness, guile, and evil shown,
Have equal place firm-stationed in our mind,
And that the sin we punish is our own.
There's but one human way or weak or strong,
Standing or stumbling, as the chance may be,
Oh, kinfolks, hand in hand, let's grope along,
Helping and being helped, in our degree;
The road is weary and its perils great,
It is not ours to make it wearier still
We need love's kindliness. Judgment can wait
Till at the end the Master speaks His will.
In St. Louis Republican.
