Patrick Regan has kindly shared the material from his George Heath site with readers of the Victorian Web, who may wish to consult the original.
One kindred are we here,
And each to each agrees,
In mutual needs and aids,
Supplies dependencies.
And some are made to bear
And some are made to cling;
As mates the sapling vine
With England's forest king.
And some are strong and brave,
And some are faint and frail;
The lily maiden weds
The warrior ribbed with mail.
And God to each hath given
A something here of good;
A place for each to fill
In human brotherhood.
The strong to toil and fight,
Support, restrain, redress;
The weak to soothe and twine,
To comfort and caress.
The great of brain to think,
The iron of arm to toil,
The pure of heart to preach,
The fair of lip to smile.
And some are made to rule,
And some to serve the State;
And some to sit and eat,
And some to stand and wait.
Not one, however low,
But has a nook assigned
Within the busy mart
By God, the master-mind:
To ease the clamp of care,
And oil the wheels of toil;
Make anguish easier borne,
And pleasure worth the while;
To smooth the rugged edge
Before the plodding feet;
Make earth more pure and fair,
And life more calm and sweet.
And each has got a charge,
Something to cherish, too;
A little hand to lead,
A prop to cling unto.
He is thy brother-man,
However mean he be,
Who but his duty knows,
And does it faithfully.
We cannot all be kings,
Not all be grand and great;
Why should we grasp and fret
For things beyond our state?
Why not take up our thread
And weave it patiently,
Among the myriad threads
That are but threads as we?
Why should we blindly turn
From kindred needs and aims?
Why selfishly withhold
What our own nature claims?
How blessed the world would be
If each would search His will;
If each his work would do,
And each his place would fill!
Last modified 4 September 2002