“Oh, if they knew—if they could only know,
Could see our naked souls without disguise—
How they would shrink from us and pale with fear!”
The bitter thoughts we hold in leash within
But do not kill;
The petty anger and the mean desire,
The jealousy which burns,—a smouldering fire,—
The slimy trail of half-unnoted sin,
The sordid wish which daunts the nobler will.
We fight each day with foes we dare not name.