Too seldom are your thoughts set free to seek
The realms beyond the borders that confine
Your own small circle; seldom do you speak
Of aught save little currents that combine
To shape your narrow course; and you forget,
In contemplation of your own affairs,
Your fellow-men by tragedy beset
And broken by the burden of their cares.
If getting, spending, garnering mere things
Through careless habit has become your creed,
You cannot know the happiness that springs
From service given to a world in need,
Where every friendly gesture helps to bind
More closely all the races of mankind.