Humanity and Solidarity

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows Like harmony in music; there is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society.

Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man?

For a’ that and a’ that, It’s coming yet, for a’ that, That man to man the world o’er Shall brothers be for a’ that.

When Nature her great masterpiece design’d, And fram’d her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all the mazy plan, She form’d of various stuff the various Man.

Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman; Tho’ they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human.

Man’s inhumanity to man. Makes countless thousands mourn!

Pity would be no more, If we did not make somebody poor; And Mercy no more could be, If all were as happy as we.

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 all must love the human form, In heathen, turk, or jew; Where Mercy, Love, & Pity dwell There God is dwelling too.

Noble be man, Helpful and good! For that alone Sets him apart From every other creature On earth.

If you inquire what the people are like here, I must answer, “The same as everywhere!”

Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, I see the lords of humankind 3 pass by.

Let observation with extensive view Survey mankind, from China to Peru. 2

Do all the good you can, By all the means you can, In all the ways you can, In all the places you can, At all the times you can, To all the people you can, As long as ever you can.

That true self-love and social are the same.

A wit’s a feather, and a chief a rod; An honest man’s the noblest work of God.

The wretched have no friends.

Out of one man a race Of men innumerable.

So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent.

What is the city but the people?

His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear’d arm Crested the world; his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in ’t, an autumn ’twas That grew the more by reaping; his delights Were dolphin-like, they show’d his back above The element they liv’d in; in his livery Walk’d crowns and crownets, realms and islands were As plates dropp’d from his pocket.

’Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after.

As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport.

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta’en Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.