And your own share in the work which they have done,
Though your private conscience aches
With your personal mistakes,
And you don’t amount to very much alone,
Than to be yourself as spotless as a baby one year old,
Your domestic habits wholly free from blame,
While the company you stand with
Is a thing to curse a land with,
And your public life is undiluted shame.
For the deeds men do together are what saves the world to-day—
By our common public work we stand or fall—
And your fraction of the sin
Of the office you are in
Is the sin that’s going to damn you, after all!
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