Classic Poem

Come, and give me a hand, then;
And I will give you a mind,
And a place for your feet to stand then,
Which only the wise can find.

Patient it there lies waiting
The look of the willing eye:
O hearts, that have turned from hating,
How oft have ye passed it by!

Ye have battled in many places,
And many foul deeds have done;
But back with their old embraces
Come moon, and stars, and sun.

Ye have taken your toll, and given
Slaughter for slaughter again;
But alike to all who have striven
Are sunlight, and wind, and rain.

These are the ancient givers,
Merciful, just, and free,
As the downward flowing of rivers
To the need of a wave-worn sea.

For the body is more than raiment,
The life much better than meat;
And having for these made payment,
The comfort of rest is sweet.

Let your raiment henceforth be kindness,
Your meat the service of man;
To lift from his eyes the blindness
Which fell when sorrow began.

Let milk and honey be flowing,
And meekness possess the earth,
And your reaping be as your sowing
In the goodly field of man's worth.

So, in the dwellings of mortals,
Forgiveness shall spring like grass,
And love be a light in your portals,
And sorrow as winds that pass;

And round you, like sons and daughters
Of hearts that have ceased to grieve,
Come the murmur of windless waters,
And the singing silence of eve.