WHATEVER THE MISSION OF LIFE MAY BE.
Whatever the mission of life may be,
Let love keep true, and let thought keep free,
And never, whatever may cause the plan,
Enlarge the calling to lessen the man.
The cut of a coat,
Cant chatter’d by rote,
A priestly or princely state remote
From the ties that bind
A man to mankind,
Are a clog and a curse to spirit and mind;
For God, who made us, made only a man,
No arms of a snob, no shield of a clan.
Far better a friend that is friendly to God,
Than a sycophant kissing a ribbon or rod.
Help on no ways nor words that extol
The vise of a bias that binds the soul;
No rank held up by holding down
True worth as an underling stript of his crown;
No cause with a lie
For a party-cry
To catch the low or to court the high;
No life with a creed
That ends all the need
Of knowing or growing in thought or deed.—
Weigh well their worth; true dawnings of light
Can abide your waiting and grow more bright.
Weigh not, you prove the trend of my thought:
Your soul is a slave to be sold and bought.