17 JUNE 1899, Page 17

POETRY.

• MINE ENEMY.

ONCE in my pride I judged a man,

With eyes austere I looked him through, I said, " Here failed he,"—span by span I measured all his faults anew.

And thenceforth marked in bitter mood The manner of his life, intent To find therein such constant food That my just heart might not_relent.

I probed his thoughts, his motives weighed ; And yet as on his hopes I peered, Though some I might have crushed, I stayed My hand—they were so humbly reared.

And keeping watch with doubtful eyes On all his actions, I began

To mark with measureless surprise How very human was the man !

Till, by a casual cross-wind blown,

Came word of trifling acts of his—

Poor common things—in which was shown His touch with common charities.

Then seeing how much I had denied, Who loved the name of Charity, I bowed my head with shame and cried, "Forgive me, 0 mine enemy ! " '

W. G. HOLE.