Classic Poem

Say not, " It matters not to me:
My brother's weal is his behoof! "
For, in this wondrous human web,
If your life's warp, his life is woof.
Woven all together are the threads,
And you and he are in one loom:
For good or ill, for glad or sad,
Your lives must share one common doom.

Then let the daily shuttle glide,
Wound full with threads of kindly care,
That life's increasing length may be
Not only strongly wrought, but fair.
So, from the stuff of each new day,
The loving hand of Time shall make
Garments of joy and peace for all;
And human hearts shall cease to ache.