There is but one convincing way to teach.
Speak thou but words of praise.

Mortal.

On every hand is wretchedness and grief,
Despondency and fear.
Lord, I would give my fellow men relief.

Spirit.

Be, then, all hope, all cheer.

Mortal.

Lord, I look outward and grow sick at heart,
Such need of change I see.

Spirit.

Mortal, look in. Do thy allotted part,
And leave the rest to ME.

The Weed.