when I think
some more
upon the world’s cares

of people strong. . .
and people sick. . .

of people poor
and people rich. . .

a labyrinth
spreads out
my inner eye before. . .

and I feel. . .
no choice I have but weep. . .

I know I must
pick up
some share
of all this load. . .

And take us all
promptly forward,
along a better road–
for multiplying needs
grow as we speak
and essential causes run
so deep. . .

So, I do best
to gather up a formidable
lust and zest
that let me
see my role
and play it well,

for my soul
has made a promise
that I’ve come here to keep.

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