The Stranger

The stranger within my gate

He may be true or kind

But he does no talk my talk-

I cannot feel his mind.

I see the face and the eyes and the mouth

But not the soul behind

The men of my own stock,

They may do ill or well,

But they tell the lies I tell,

We do not need interpreters

When we go to buy or sell

CHORUS

The stranger within my gate,

He may be evil or good,

But I cannot tell what powers control,

What reasons sway his mood,

Nor when the gods of his far-off land

May repossess his blood.

VERSE

The men of my own stock,

Bitter bad they may be,

But, at least, they hear the thing I hear

And see the thing I see;

Whatever I thing of them and their likes,

They thinks the likes of me

This was my father's belief

And this is also mine:

Let the corn be all of one sheaf

And the grapes be all of one vine,

Ere our children's teeth are set on edge

By bitter bread and wine

CHORUS

The stranger within my gate,

He may be evil or good,

But I cannot tell what powers control,

What reasons sway his mood,

Nor when the gods of his far-off land

May repossess his blood.

THE STRANGERS WITHIN MY GATE...