METHOUGHT I came unto a world-wide plain
 Where souls stood thick as grain at harvest-tide,
 And many reapers, full of pious pride,
With rapid scythe-sweeps mowed them down amain;
And zealous binders bound them up like grain
 In sheaves: the reapers at each onward stride
 Trod many souls down. These the binders eyed
With careless looks or glances of disdain.
But, following slow, a patient Gleaner came
 And gathered all the Binders cast aside,
 And made fair sheaves thereof. Whereat I cried:
?Why gather these? Who art thou? Name thy name!?
 The Gleaner in a sad, sweet voice replied:
?The outcasts? Saviour?for these, too, I died.?