Classic Poem

Christian! Who calls us Christian? We,
Who trumpet our creed from sea to sea,
Who bridge the ocean with eager hands
To rescue the pagan of other lands,
Yet breed our criminals in the womb—
Product of factory and loom
Where mothers, toiling from early morn,
Barter the strength of the child unborn.

Oh, did we live the Christian creed,
Did we feel the blade of human need,
Would millions of men be underfed
And others surfeited with bread?
Could we take these counterfeit shapes of men,
Drive them, cheat them, starve them—then,
When the God-spark burst in rebellious flame,
Curse them with prison and with shame,
Shut them from starlight and the sun,
Punished for crimes that we have done?
Criminals we call them—we!
For our eyes are holden; we cannot see
Fruit of exhausted motherhood
Slaving to earn the daily food.

Christian! Who calls us Christian? We,
Who chant our hymns of a life to be,
And close our eyes to the living sore
Eating its way to the nation's core;
Who flaunt our virtues throughout the earth,
Singing the great Redeemer's birth,
While evils naked within the land
Cry for the swift destroyer's hand.

Oh, could we hurl the Christian speech
Wherever the whip of God could reach,
Would little children, against His will,
Labor in factory and mill,
Thwarting the Maker's perfect plan,
When out of his love he created man?
Oh, could we rage as the Saviour raged,
Would innocence be trapped and caged,
The virtue of woman bought and sold
For the sin of man that is ages old?
We would scourge them all from the holy place,
Thieves that plunder the human race
Christian! Who calls us Christian? We,
Who poison the veins of the race to be!

Not till we give God's man a chance,
Shall we see humanity's whole advance.
Man shall not realize his dream,
Till motherhood is the gift supreme.
Not till the meanest has his place
In the forward march of the human race;
Not till the poorest has the right
To love and honor and food and light;
Not till the weakest knows his might,
Till we free the captive and sheathe the sword;
Not till we stand before the Lord—
A nation splendid and unafraid,
Made in the image that God made,
No man a tyrant and none a slave,
Shall the world be saved, as he meant to save!