“Am I my brother’s keeper?”
The time has been, it seem’d a precept plain
Of the true faith, Christ’s tokens to display;
And in life’s commerce still the thought retain,
That men have souls, and wait a judgment- day;
Kings used their gifts as ministers of heaven,
Nor stripp’d their zeal for God, of means which God had given.
‘Tis alter’d now;—for Adam’s eldest born
Has train’d our practice in a selfish rule,
Each stands alone, Christ’s bonds asunder torn;
Each has his private thought, selects his school,
Conceals his creed, and lives in closest tie
Of fellowship with those who count it blasphemy.
Brothers! spare reasoning;—men have settled long
That ye are out of date, and they are wise;
Use their own weapons; let your words be strong,
Your cry be loud, till each scared boaster flies;
Thus the Apostles tamed the pagan breast,
They argued not, but preach’d; and conscience did the rest.
Off Sardinia. June 19, 1833.