Poem November 3, 1917 ISSUE

[Written for the Sentinel]

The Measure of a Man

HARRY J. DUNHAM

Oh, what's the measure of a man?The prestige of an ancient clan,A sturdy form, a comely face,Or wealth, or power, or pride of place,Devotion to ambition's aimWith one intent, an honored nameWhich all the world with pride may scan,—Are these the measure of a man?

Not so! The man of humble mind,Who hath his Father's will divined,And bearing much and suffering longYet no dominion yields to wrong;Who, be his station high or low,Doth no respect of persons show,But serving God whate'er befall,Doth righteous judgment judge withal;Who succoreth those by want distressed,Uplifts the fallen and oppressed,Renewing hope and courage whereHe found but fear and dark despair;Who finds in evil's vaunted powerOccasion in the present hourAgain, as oft of old, to proveThe conquering might of Truth and Love;Who, free from lust and blighting fear,Accepts not things as they appear,But sees, despite the carnal mind,God's image stamped on all mankind;Who turns aside hate's fiery dartsWith charity, which Love imparts;To whom existence understoodMeans God as All, and All as good.

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