Poems (Cook)/The Idiot-Born
THE IDIOT-BORN.
"Out, thou silly moon-struck elf;Back, poor fool, and hide thyself!"This is what the wise ones say,Should the Idiot cross their way:But if we would closely mark,We should see him not all dark;We should find we must not scornThe teaching of the Idiot-born.
He will screen the newt and frog;He will cheer the famish'd dog;He will seek to share his breadWith the orphan, parish-fed: He will offer up his seatTo the stranger's wearied feet:Selfish tyrants, do not scornThe teaching of the Idiot-born.
Use him fairly, he will proveHow the simple breast can love;He will spring with infant gleeTo the form he likes to see.Gentle speech, or kindness done;Truly binds the witless one.Heartless traitors, do not scornThe teaching of the Idiot-born.
He will point with vacant stareAt the robes proud churchmen wear;But he'll pluck the rose, and tell,God hath painted it right well.He will kneel before his food,Softly saying, "God is good."Haughty prelates, do not scorn.The teaching of the Idiot-born.
Art thou great as man can be?—The same hand moulded him and thee.Hast thou talent?—Taunt and jeerMust not fall upon his ear.Spurn him not; the blemish'd partHad better be the head than heart.Thou wilt be the fool to scornThe teaching of the Idiot-born.