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T H E M A RC H | 119 With charity we would prevent this poverty and woe, But find the more we’ve fondly spent, the more the poor do grow! We’ve tried by punishment full sore to mend the case they’re in; The more we punish them the more they sin, and sin, and sin! We make the punishment more kind, we give them wise reform, And they, with a contented mind, flock to our prisons warm! Then science comes with solemn air, and shows us social laws, Explaining how the poor are there from a purely natural cause. ’Tis natural for low and high to struggle and to strive; ’Tis natural for the worse to die and the better to survive. We swallowed all this soothing stuff, and easily were led To think if we were stern enough, the poor would soon be dead. But, O! in vain we squeeze, and grind, and drive them to the wall— For all our deadly work we find it does not kill them all! The more we struggle they survive! increase and multiply! There seem to be more poor alive, in spite of all that die! Whene’er I take my walks abroad how many poor I see, And eke at home! How long, O Lord! How long must this thing be! The Dead Level There is a fear among us as we strive, As we succeed or fail, or starve or revel, That there will be no pleasure left alive When we in peace and joy at last arrive At one dead level. And still the strangest part of this strange fear Is that it is not for ourselves we fear it. We wish to rise and gain; we look ahead To pleasant years of peace ere we are dead; We wish that peace, but wish no other near it! Say, does it spoil your pleasure in a town To have your neighbors’ gardens full of roses? Is your house dearer when its eye looks down On evil-smelling shanties rough and brown? Is your nose safer than your neighbor’s nose is? Are you unhappy at some noble fête To see the whole bright throng in radiant dresses? Is your State safer when each other State That borders it is full of want and hate? Peace must be peace to all before it blesses. Is knowledge sweeter when it is hemmed in By ignorance that does not know its master? Is goodness easier when plenteous sin Surrounds it? And can you not win Joy for yourself without your friend’s disaster? 120 | In This Our World O foolish children! With more foolish fear, Unworthy even of a well-trained devil! Good things are good for all men,—that is clear; To doubt it shows your heads are nowhere near To that much-dreaded level! The Cart Before the Horse Our business system has its base On one small thought that’s out of place; The merest trifle—nothing much, of course. The truth is there—who says it’s not? Only—the trouble is—you’ve got The cart before the horse! You say unless a man shall work Right earnestly, and never shirk He may not eat.31 Now look—the change is small, And yet the truth is plain to see— Unless man eats, and frequently, He cannot work at all! And which comes first! Why, that is plain, The man comes first. And, look again— A baby! with an appetite to fit! You have to feed him years and years, And train him up with toil and tears, Before he works a bit! So let us change our old ideas, And learn with these advancing years To give the oats before we ask for speed; Not set the hungry horse to run, And tell him when the race is done That he shall have his feed! The Amœboid Cell Said the Specialized Cell to the Amœboid Cell,32 “Why don’t you develop like me? Just combine with the others, Unite with your brothers, And grow to a thing you can see,— An organized creature like me!” Said the Amœboid Cell to the Specialized Cell, “But where would my liberty be? If I’m one with a class, I should lose in the mass ...

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