Classic Poem

“U NCLEAN ! Unclean!” the wretched lepers cry,
“Unclean! Unclean! O mortal, come not nigh,
Nor touch our garments, lest the dread disease
Doom thee to death and untold agonies.”

And thou and I, base moral lepers, vile,
Who greet the righteous with a conscious smile,
We deem our grained spots unknown unseen,
Thou, thou, and I, should stand and cry, “Unclean!”