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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox Behold the Earth Behold the earth swung in among the stars Fit home for gods if men were only kind-- Do thou thy part to shape it to those ends, By shaping thine own life to perfectness. Seek nothing for thyself or thine own kin That robs another of one hope or joy, Let no man toil in poverty and pain To give thee unearned luxury and ease. Feed not the hungry servitor with stones, That idle guests may fatten on thy bread. Look for the good in stranger and in foe, Nor save thy praises for the cherished few; And let the weakest sinner find in thee An impetus to reach receding heights. Behold the earth swung in among the stars-- Fit home for gods; wake thou the God within And by the broad example of thy love Communicate Omnipotence to men. All men are unawakened gods: be thine The voice to rouse them from unhappy sleep. Ella Wheeler Wilcox Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
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