codex002489-016v

Are robbed of comfort, and hope & health.
Shame on the ruler, who rides in his carriage
Bought by the labor of half paid men -
Men who are shut out of home & marriage
And are herded like sheep in a hovel pen.

Look Highter! Ella Wheeler.
(To the quarreling Clergy men of N York.)

And is there no way that is better
To help the sad world in its needs.
Than this; to fight over the letter
Forgetting the spirit of creeds?
What ever the excuse or the reason
You hold for the strife, in the end
Your quarrel can only be treason
To Christ, whom you claim, to defend.

The man of the crude middle ages
Has grown into something too high,
To feed his starved soul on dull pages
Of dogmas, as useless, as dry.