O look not on the clash of creeds,
Their conflict that confronts us here—
See how each, caught in passion, breeds
Mistrust and hatred, scorn and fear.
O turn! and seek the vital truth
On which they claim to rest, and see
How, when each Faith was in its youth,
Of Right 'twas the epitome.
Note how each one from Goodness springs—
The source the same—though they divide:
And learn that each the message brings,
That self has to be crucified.