THE SQUARE SHOOTER'S PLEA
Let me walk among toilers while I am on earth
And be by my honest toil judged of my worth.
And judging all men by the spirit within
And not the fine raiment that covers the skin.
Let me feel for my neighbor a bit of his grief
That I may understand and appeal for relief.
Fail not in my duty to neighbor in need
Because of intolerance, bias or creed.
Let me govern my memory bidding it halt
And jettison all record of foible and fault.
While securing between decks the annals more fair
To the end of the journey, that port over there.
Let me think with an open and reasoning mind
Let my treatment of others opinions be kind.
Let me not tell another that my way is best
When my taste has restrained me from trying the rest.
Let me laugh with the world, let me sing and be glad
Let me lighten the load of the weary and sad
As I tactfully open their pleasure deaf ears
To the music of life, that great blotter of tears.
Let me play and be happy, my tools laid aside
And never another mans pastime deride.
Each whiling his own leisure hours away
As pleases him best at the end of the day.
Let me look at the last at the opening door
The grim shadow creeping across the cold floor.
With the thought that I've done the best I could do
And the courage to pass, without whimpering through.
Then let me rest, let me slumber and let me be named
As one who was tolerant never ashamed,
To admit he was wrong and the other man right
Then leave me in peace with a smiling good night.
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