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A poem by Jared Barhite

Some Characters I Can't Admire

Title:     Some Characters I Can't Admire
Author: Jared Barhite [More Titles by Barhite]

The seeming saint with long drawn face,
Who thinks that he has so much grace
He should be throned on highest place
To which saints may aspire,
And yet, when dealing with a man,
Will use some vicious, subtle plan
By which a vantage he may gain,
Is character I can't admire.

The zealot who thinks God has given
A delegated power from heaven
To him, to see that men are driven
To escape a burning fire,
Yet draws no souls by filial love,
But deems the world can never move
By holy influence from above,
Is character I can't admire.

The man whose prayer is long and loud,
Whose knee is bent, whose head is bowed--
With worldly goods richly endowed
With all man can desire,
Yet sees a worthy brother fall,
Without responding to his call
For aid to soothe starvation's gall,
Is character I can't admire.

The teacher who devoid of heart,
Unskilled in pedagogic art,
With looks and acts severely tart
Would loathesome tasks require,
Of pupils dulled by daily grind,
Or stirred by words unjust, unkind,
Which leave a canker in the mind,
Is character I can't admire.

The mother who aspires to be
A beacon light of charity,
Regardless of the nursery
Whereof she seems to tire,
Who thinks her husband needs no care,
But drives him wildly toward despair
By meagre love, and frigid fare,
Is character I can't admire.

The husband who spends days and nights
In low resorts, mid brawls and fights,
In which his heart greatly delights,
But stops not to inquire,
If wife and child have needed care,
Or from his draughts he may not spare
The pittance they should justly share,
Is character I can't admire,

The millionaire who doth obtain
His wealth by brawn and muscle strain
Of those he poorly doth maintain
Through scanty meed and hire,
Who will not justly, freely give
A recompense whereby may live
In health, the man who makes him thrive
Is character I can't admire.

The man who feels no poignant ruth
At the dethronement of a truth,
That to old age from tender youth
Has felt no fervid ire
When hate and envy swayed the tongue,
And took no pride in checking wrong,
No matter where it may belong,
Is character I can't admire.

The man who lives for self alone,
The man whose truth and honor 've flown,
The man who hears a fellow groan
Or sees a soul expire,
And lifts no friendly hand to aid,
No sympathy of soul betrayed,
No fevered brow with balm allayed,
Are characters I can't admire.

[The end]
Jared Barhite's poem: Some Characters I Can't Admire