If preachers, forgetting the Master of old
And the banner of light He unfurled,
Elope with the fairest ewe-lambs of the fold,--
It is only the way of the world.
If merchants, unscrupulous, cheat with a will
While their lips are at honesty curled,--
Harsh blame, hie away! And your censure, be still!
It is only the way of the world!
The way of the world! What a happy excuse
For the faults and the follies unfurled!
Bind virtue securely! The vices turn loose!
'Tis the way--'tis the way--of the world!
MY SHADOW AND I.
A something, not of earth or sky,
Beside me walks the ways I go,
And I--I never truly know,
If I am it or it is I.
It soothes me with its tender speech,
It guides me with its gentle hand,
But I--I can not understand
The links that bind us each to each.
I hear the songs of golden days
Fall softly on the saddened years,
But know not whose the hungry ears
First feasted on the roundelays.
I feel the hopes, the yearnings brave,
Within my bosom surge and roll,
But know not whose the Master Soul
That called their glories from the grave.
I see the great world's greater curse,
Dark struggles on through darker days,
But know not whose the eyes that gaze
Through all the sobbing universe.
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