If we knew how oft the pathway
Seems obstructed; and the night
Giveth not a star of promise,
Daylight dawning, nor the light;
If we knew the inward struggle,
Faith that knows nor doubt, nor loss
, Would we stop to judge a brother
While he's clinging to the cross?
If we knew how oft the weary
In their thirst stood at "the well"
Like our Master, would we listen,
Then of "living waters" tell?
We would pray for light and wisdom,
Love that gives the healing touch,
Ceasing e'er to judge a brother.
Learning thus to love him much.
If we knew how busy fingers
Thrust life's shuttle in and out,
Weaving webs of finest texture
From the threads where fear and doubt
Have been cast aside, in gleaning,
And in conning o'er the store,
Would we stop to judge a brother?
Nay! we'd love him more and more.
