1 Until thy feet have trod the Road Advise not wayside folk, Nor till thy back has borne the Load Break in upon the broke. 2 Chase not with undesired largesse Of sympathy the heart Which, knowing her own bitterness, Presumes to dwell apart. 3 Employ not that glad hand to raise The God-forgotten head To Heaven, and all the neighbours’ gaze— Cover thy mouth instead. 4 The quivering chin, the bitten lip, The cold and sweating brow, Later may yearn for fellowship— Not now, you ass, not now! 5 Time, not thy ne’er so timely speech, Life, not thy views thereon, Shall furnish or deny to each His consolation. 6 Or, if impelled to interfere, Exhort, uplift, advise, Lend not a base, betraying ear To all the victim’s cries. 7 Only the Lord can understand When those first pangs begin, How much is reflex action and How much is really sin. 8 E’en from good words thyself refrain, And tremblingly admit There is no anodyne for pain Except the shock of it. 9 So, when thine own dark hour shall fall, Unchallenged canst thou say: “I never worried you at all, For God’s sake go away!”
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