This page needs to be proofread.
FAULT-FINDING.
[Margaret.]
SOME one said,
He is no friend who will not tell my faults.
And so I sat me down to look for thine,
To mark the sable flaws that fleck thine ermine.
I found a scorn unwise for things ignoble,
A power of silent wrath consuming wrong,
A way of digging deep below the sunshine,
A doubt of self, and trust in other men ;
I said, " These are thy follies."
I found a habit of self-sacrifice,
A tardy vision of rights personal,
A way of stepping back from thrusting crowds,
A loose light hold of things material ;
I said, "There thou art wrong."
