THE BROTHER'S BLOOD

I have no brother. They who meet me now

Offer a hand with their own wills defiled,

And, while they wear a smooth unwrinkled brow,

Know not that truth can never be beguiled.

Go wash the hand that still betrays thy guilt;-

Before the Spirit’s gaze what stain can hide?

Abel’s red blood upon the earth is spilt

And by thy tongue it cannot be denied.

I hear not with the ear, - the heart doth tell

Its secret deeds to me, untold before;

Go, all its hidden plunder quickly sell,

Then shalt thou cleanse thee from thy brother’s gore,

Then will I take thy gift; that bloody stain

Shall not be seen upon thy hand again.

  Jones Very
 (1830-1880)