Kindly let us help each other,
Lighter will our burden lie,
For the good we do our brother
Is a solace pure and high, —
So Confucius to his people,
To his friends, the wise Chinese,
Oft affirmed, and to persuade them,
Told them stories such as these: —

In an Asiatic city
Dwelt two miserable men, —
Misery knows nor clime nor country,
Haunts alike the dome or den —
Blind the one, the other palsied,
Each so poor he prayed for death;
Yet he lived, his invocations
Seeming naught but wasted breath.
On his wretched mattress lying,
In the busy public square,
See the wasted paralytic
Suffering more that none doth care.

Butt for everybody's humour,
Gropes the blind his devious way,
Guide, nor staff, nor helper has he,
To supply the light's lost ray;
E'en a poor dog's willing service,
Love, and guidance are denied;
Till one day his groping finds him
By the paralytic's side.
There he hears the sufferer's moaning,
And his very soul is moved.
He's the truest sympathizer
Who, like sorrow, erst has proved.

" I have, sorrows, thou hast others,
Brother, let us join our woes,
And their rigours will be softened, "
Thus the blind began propose.
" Ah, my friend, thou little knowest
That a step I cannot take;
Thou art blind; what should we gain then
Of two burdens one to make? "
" Why, now, brother, see how lucky,
'Twixt us both is all we lack:
Thou hast eyes, be thou the guide then,
Thee I'll carry on my back;
Thus without unfriendly question
As to which bears heaviest load,
I will walk for thee, and thou, friend,
Choose for me the smoothest road. "