Whose true balance never swerves,
Knows every man's Gethsemane,
And the merit he deserves.
He will not ask figs of the thorns;
Of talents will not demand
A greater increase than is just
From a faithful steward's hand.
Feeling the weight of the mission
Incumbent upon our care;
Searching the heart's deep recesses
That vice may not shelter there;
Working courageously onward
The truth and right to defend;
And asking a perfect guidance,
We calmly welcome the end.
[Transcriber's Note: The following errors in the original have been
corrected in this version:
WHO KNOWS?
While we shall linger hear,
While we shall linger here,
OUR PROFESSION.
Is a receipe one may offer
Is a recipe one may offer
FACT VERSUS FORM.
So are educational falacies
So are educational fallacies
INDULGENCE.
In love, oft a maddened, frienzied heart
In love, oft a maddened, frenzied heart
THE THRUSH.
That bring filicity.
That bring felicity.
SUNSET.
No secrets incribed on its scroll.
No secrets inscribed on its scroll.
RETROSPECTION.
That seemes like a photo-engraving,
That seems like a photo-engraving,
THE HAIR.
Regard causmetic's fancy stock
Regard cosmetic's fancy stock
POUNDRIDGE, N. Y.
That spurn M. D's. control.
That spurn M. D.'s control.
]
End of Project Gutenberg's Our Profession and Other Poems, by Jared Barhite