Chapter II

Inside the new oped lazar-house,
Where sick and dying, plague-struck, lay,

Skill sought to baffle foul disease,
Yet still the dismal blight made way.

Sore lack of helpful, nursing hands
Was keenly felt within those walls;
Since selfish dread had closed the soul
To lucre's bribe, or mercy's calls.

Had closed the soul of all save those
Whose life is but to do His will;
Who fear not Afric's burning sands,
Nor Javan swamp, nor Iceland chill.

Three Sisters, vowed to charity,
Out of the well trained city band;
Skilled nurses[Note] they, and fit prepared,
Came forward as with life in hand.

When, shame to tell, their proffered aid
Was scouted; reason urgeth why?
Search not dim aisles of bigotry,
Sift thou thy soul for just reply.

Oh, narrow bounded prejudice!
Hedged round of a Christian name,
Thou low, dim burning altar light!
Unlit of celestial flame.

Right royal blood in honor's cause,
Red stains the patriot battle field;
Thou slay'st thy myriads for naught,
God in the conscience may not yield.

Thou! blind and selfish prejudice;
Vile, murky source of endless strife;
Know that a world reviving faith
Doth blossom into fruitful life.