Let Us All Be What We Are: A Poem

LET US ALL BE WHAT WE ARE. 401 'Tisn't wholly the word-painted, bookish boquets That bring to the speaker renown; 'Tis the sincere ring in each homely phrase, That awards him the victor's crown. The sweetest flowers that scent the breeze Are not from the hot-house lair; The man whose trousers wear out the knees May not utter the deepest prayer. It isn't the depths of the ocean blueThat betoken the frothing foam: It isn't the furniture's costly hue That endears to the heart the home. The man whose "chance" it is to rule, Perhaps would be best in jail; It isn't always the greatest fool Whose tests at the college fail. We cannot judge from each doleful moan Whose grief is the greatest here, For the saddest tears may be shed alone Where no one is list'ning near. Don't scofl', nor point with the hand of scorn At the man with the ragged coat — The millionaire isn't an angel born. Nor as such does his dress denote. Don't curse at the vet' ran drunken man Who staggers a- down the street; He's one in Misfortune's caravan — He'll come to his own defeat. The Golden Rule is for one and all Who dwell upon God's green earth; And when you have answered Death's sure call, You'll be judged for your honest worth. Each kindly deed has its recompense — We are placed here to make or mar; And e're we take our departure hence, Let us all be what we are. Walter Emmett. Ogden, Utah.