THE Preacher who hath fought a goodly fight And toiled for his great Master all day long, Grows faint and harassed after evensong, And harshly chides the eager proselyte; The Sage who strode along the even height Of narrow Justice severing wrong from wrong, Stumbles, and sinks below the common throng, In pits of prejudice forlorn of light. But thou, within whose veins a cooler blood Runs reasonably quiet, brand not thou With name of hypocrite each sunken brow; To every son of man on earth who would The Graces have not given it to be good, And virtuous fruit may break the laden bough. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TAY BRIDGE DISEASTER by WILLIAM MCGONAGALL THE BOY AND THE BROOK by LEO ALISHAN EPILOGUE TO LESSING'S LAOCOON by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE VIGIL OF JOSEPH by ELSA BARKER DIGNITY OF LABOR by LEVI BISHOP |