How wilt thou tell it? How appeal
To him who secret sins?
Wilt make him one whom men deride,
Rack him with agony of pride?
Nay, he will grind thee 'neath his heel,
The man who secret sins.
It shall be as a story told,
The sharp rebuke of love,
The prophet pictured to the throng
Disclosure of imagined wrong—
Made throned David's self unfold
The sharp rebuke of love.
Judging another, his verdict brought
The answer, "Thou 'rt the man;"
The prophet, merciful and just,
Pierced to the sin with keen sword-thrust.
Like as we judge, so are we taught
By keen word,Thou 'rt the man!
