I
God's kingdom triumphs not "with observation,"
With Pharisaic classifying-care,
With smug opinion pigeonholing nation
And personality, "Lo here, lo there,"
Until from elevated seat of scorn
Our self-assured surveying gains the whole
Far world in proud appraisal and, forlorn,
We lose our basic unity with Soul.
But we must use this world of tumult-stress
As monitor to show each local fault
That lurks in our own thought, for we can bless,
Renew, transform, co-ordinate, exalt
The outer scene, only if we begin
At self-correction's focal point within.
