THE SOLITARY MAN 315
The conies, clustering near, Sport round thee without fear. And clouds of crows that round thee rise Respect thy sleep and spare thine eyes. Each dumb thing here regards thee as a brother ; Nature alone hath been to thee a mother ; Therefore thou lovest her as thou dost love none other.
The scenes that charm thee here Were to thy childhood dear ; Thy youth, thy manhood here were spent. And age here found thee still content ; Yon graves claim all thy tears, these fields thy pride ; Thy loved ones in yon cottage lived and died ; Each rock, each tree, hath some fond feeling sanctified.
O, lone one, thou dost teach This doctrine without speech. That man in much is sport of chance ; That accident and circumstance Our lives control ; that past associations Form of our good and evil the foundations ; These elevate and these depress both men and nations.
Who would judge men must learn If fate was kind or stern ; Nature and habit, not reflection, Direct in most the soul's affection. To know the man we must have known the boy, The sources of his sorrow and his joy; Harsh judgments both our own and others' peace destroy.
Our thoughts, even as our laws,
Judge acts, but not the cause. We viev/ with a contemptuous face Men not of our own creed or race.
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