::R1516 : page 117::

JUDGE NOT

Judge not; the workings of the brain
And of the heart thou can’st not see;
What looks to thy dim eye a stain,
In God’s pure light may only be
A scar, brought from some well-won field,
Where thou would’st only faint and yield.

The look, the air, that frets thy sight,
May be a token that below
The soul had closed in deadly fight
With some internal, fiery foe,
Whose glance would scorch thy smiling grace,
And cast thee, shuddering, on thy face.

The fall thou darest to despise:
May be the angel’s slackened hand
Has suffered it that he may rise
And take a firmer, surer stand;
Or, trusting less to earthly things,
May henceforth learn to use his wings.

And judge none lost; but wait and see,
With hopeful pity, not disdain;
The depth of the abyss may be
The measure of the height of pain
And love and glory that may raise
This soul to God in after days. —Selected.

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— April 15, 1893 —