Achsa White Sprague

Nov. 17, 1827 - Jul. 6, 1862

 

Shame On The Coward Souls

by Achsa White Sprague

Shame on the coward souls that bend
At some such trifling thing,
And stoop from all their loftiest thoughts,
Such bitter words to bring!

Shame on the coward souls whose power
Is but in sunny days!
That faints, and dies, and fades away,
In sorrow's misty ways,

Shame on the coward souls that sink
Into themselves, when pain
Has seized them with a death-like grasp,
Nor gives them up again!

Shame on the coward souls that let
Some angry word disturb,
That know not on their haughty soul
To place the proper curb!

Shame on the coward souls that, when
They know full well their sin,
Wait, craven-hearted, ere the work --
Redemption -- they begin!

Shame on the coward souls who've done
A known and wilful wrong,
Yet wait ere reparation's made --
Wait coldly, wait so long!

Shame on the coward souls, while here
In this first life they live,
Who learn not well that mighty work,
So Godlike, -- to forgive!

Shame on the coward souls that, when
They've done a wrong or stain,
Shall seek forgiveness, and then soon
Shall do it o'er again!

Shame on the coward souls that seek
The beautiful and high,
Then sink below their better selves,
And fail when most they try!

Shame on the coward souls that wait!
Let them for once be strong,
And strike a death-blow swift and sure
To all within that's wrong!

Source:

The Poet And Other Poems.
Copyright 1864
Boston: William White And Co.,
158 Washington Street.
 
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