The Gleaner

METHOUGHT I came unto a world-wide plain
   Where souls stood thick as grain at harvest-tide,
   And many reapers, full of pious pride,
With rapid scythe-sweeps mowed them down amain;
And zealous binders bound them up like grain
   In sheaves: the reapers at each onward stride
   Trod many souls down. These the binders eyed
With careless looks or glances of disdain.
But, following slow, a patient Gleaner came
   And gathered all the Binders cast aside,
   And made fair sheaves thereof. Whereat I cried:
“Why gather these? Who art thou? Name thy name!”
   The Gleaner in a sad, sweet voice replied:
“The outcasts’ Saviour—for these, too, I died.”