Brotherhood

That plenty but reproaches meWhich leaves my brother bare,Not wholly glad my heart can beWhile his is bowed with care.If I go free, and sound and stoutWhile his poor fetters clank,Unsated still, I still cry out,And plead with Whom I thank.

Almighty: Thou who Father beOf him, of me, of all,Draw us together, him and me,That whichsoever fall,The other's hand may fail him not—The other's strength declineNo task of succor that his lotMay claim from son of Thine.

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
A Lesson from Truth
August 29, 1901
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit