JUDGE NOT BY OUTWARD APPEARANCE

JUDGE not; the workings of the brain

And of the heart thou canst 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 wouldst only faint and yield.

The look, the air, that frets thy sight,

May be a token that below

The soul hath 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

Hath suffered it that he may rise

And take a firmer, truer 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.

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