Classic Poem

The unregenerate righteous
Who only love the few,
The profligate and prodigal
Who know not what they do —

The anarchist and socialist
Who are so worldly wise,
The laborer and capitalist
Who mingle all their cries —

All circle in a giddy whirl,
Bereft and blinded by
The mote of hate, which magnifies
The beam in the other's eye.

" Lift up your heads! " The light of love
Dispelling mote and beam —
Reveals to man a brother man —
To trust, help or redeem.