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SELECTED TOASTS
Go tb en in your church of the cloud–
r eaching spire,
Wh icl1 g ives to t he sun his same look
of rerl fir e,
Where the nr ehcs :incl colnmn s nre gor–
geous witl1in,
Auel
t he walls seem as pure as a sou l
without sin;
Walk dow-n the long aisles, see th e ri ch
and tho great
In th e pomp aud the p ride of their
worldly estate ;
W alk down in your patch es, and find,
if y ou can,
.
Wbo opens a pew to a Mon eyless Man.
Go, look in the b a nks, · wh ere Mammon
has told
His hundreds ancl thousands of silver
and gold;
Wh ere, safe from the hands of the
starving and poor,
Lies pile upon pile of the glittering
ore!
Walk up to th eir count ers- ah, there
you may stay
'Till your limbs grow old, 'till y our
hairs grow gray,
And you'll find .at th e banks not one
of tbe clan
With money to lend to a Moneyless
Man!
Go, look to yon judge, in bis dark,
flowing gown,
With th e scales wher ein Jaw weigheth
equity clown;
Wh ere he frowns on th e weak an d
smil es on the stron g,
And punishes right whil st h e justifies
wrong;
Where juries th eir lips to the Bible
have laid,
To r ender a verdict-they've already
made;