THE VIRTUE THAT BEGINS AWAY FROM HOME
(as illustrated by an American sample of missionary zeal).
In Europe's hour of darkest night
That daunts the faith of sage and seer
I long to share the morning light
Diffused in yonder hemisphere;
There all is joy and radiance (just
As when on Eden first the sun rose),
Thanks to the Power that holds in trust
That legacy of Colonel Monroe's.
But out of those so halcyon skies
Chill blasts of disillusion blow
When I observe with pained surprise
The state of things in Mexico;
And "Why," I ask, "in Heaven's name,
Can't 'God's own country' (U.S.A.) go
And, by the right none else may claim,
Put it across the dirty Dago?"
Then I reflect: "'Tis not so strange;
Some virtues best begin at home,
But others, of superior range,
Prefer to start beyond the foam;
There are who mend the ills at hand,
But those whose aims are even bigger
Seek out a far and savage land
There to convert the godless nigger.
"This chance, no doubt, distracts the Yank
From sinners at his very door;
No local cure, he feels, can rank
With efforts on a distant shore;
His heart to Sinn Fein's gospel wed,
And by its beauty deeply bitten,
He sends his dollars forth to spread
The fear of hell in heathen Britain."
O. S.