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The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems

by Hanford Lennox Gordon

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Charity

Frail are the best of us, brothers—
  God’s charity cover us all—
Yet we ask for perfection in others,
  And scoff when they stumble and fall.
Shall we give him a fish—or a serpent—
  Who stretches his hand in his need?
Let the proud give a stone, but the manly
  Will give him a hand full of bread.

Let us search our own hearts and behavior
  Ere we cast at a brother a stone,
And remember the words of the Savior
  To the frail and unfortunate one;
Remember when others displease us
  The Nazarene’s holy command,
For the only word written by Jesus
  Was charity—writ in the sand.

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