For when our souls have learned the heat to bear, the cloud will vanish, we shall hear his voice.
Cruelty has a Human Heart, and Jealousy a Human Face; terror the Human Form Divine, and Secrecy the Human Dress.
Children of the future Age, reading this indignant page, know that in a former time, Love! sweet Love! was thought a crime.
Cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
Can I see another’s woe. And not be in sorrow too, can I see another’s grief. And not seek for kind relief.
And we are put on earth a little space, that we may learn to bear the beams of love. And these black bodies and this sunburnt face, is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
And I made a rural pen, and I stained the water clear, and I wrote my happy songs, every child may joy to hear.