Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 20.pdf/38

 LAW Pale Pity's passioned plea with Justice' voice One mingled music make, and Charity Let fall her lilied blooms beneath the bare And bleeding feet that went astray, and Love Hold out arresting hands to him who falls. We should not ask alone, if man has erred, And then exact the doom prescribed by men, Whose cold and clammy blood has never felt Sweet temptation's over-mastering might, that lures The struggling soul on to its crime. O, let Us weigh not naked deed alone, but track Each interlacing cause that gave the deed Its birth, and then accord the doom we mete, Not with law alone, but with excusing love As well! For vengeance in our holy hall

Should have no home. No deed that man may do Can make him less than man, no guilt can make Him aught but brother. Nay, the more he errs The more he needs a brother's love. Around you sweep the hills where blood was poured In holy cause, and blooms blow sweet o'er graves Of men, who dead, have never died, for they Did die with death in honor's holy cause. Then let their spirits fill your breast to-day, And may your session here by noble thoughts Expressed and plans for man's advancement Made prove their blood undimmed is In your veins, And like the Roman matron old our Southland find Her jewels in her sons. VICKSBURG, Miss., April 1907.

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