Classic Poem

1

The Land is rich where'er we go
With Flowers and Fruits in clusters,
No little spot so poor and low
But some sweet tribute musters;
Abundance blesses — all things show
We should bless one another;
" Take " — says the Lord — but man says " No "
— But these are mine — my Brother —

2

Strange is the difference which breeds
Dissension among creatures,
Which binds the slave for slavish greeds
And brands his godlike Features —
One Family are we, and Oh
The children of one mother! —
" Live " — says the Lord but man says " No "
Thy Life is mine — my Brother —

3

The treasures of the Earth how vast
Exhaustless and unnumbered!
Stored with the hivings of the past
Since first old Chaos slumbered —
And is there then no thankful glow
To knit us to each other?
Ah God when will this dreary " No "
Melt at the name of Brother?

4

Religion is a war of sect,
And Fatherland of Factions;
Each deems himself the sole elect
But not thro' virtuous actions,
Not in the deeds whereby we know
The light no clay can smother —
Alas! to all things man says " No "
And still denies his Brother.