You and I by Charles Mackay

Who would scorn his humble fellow
For the coat he wears?
For the poverty he suffers?
For his daily cares?
Who would pass him in the footway
With averted eye?
Would you, brother? No—you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who, when vice or crime repentant,
With a grief sincere
Asked for pardon, would refuse it—
More than heaven severe?
Who to erring woman's sorrow
Would with taunts reply?
Would you, brother? No—you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would say that all who differ
From his sect must be
Wicked sinners, heaven-rejected,
Sunk in Error's sea,
And consign them to perdition
With a holy sigh?
Would you, brother? No—you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would say that six days' cheating,
In the shop or mart,
Might be rubbed by Sunday praying
From the tainted heart,
If the Sunday face were solemn,
And the credit high?
Would you, brother? No—you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would say that Vice is Virtue
In a hall of State?
Or that rogues are not dishonest
If they dine off plate?
Who would say Success and Merit
Ne'er part company?
Would you, brother? No—you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would give a cause his efforts
When the cause is strong,
But desert it on its failure,
Whether right or wrong?
Ever siding with the upmost,
Letting downmost lie?
Would you, brother? No—you would not.
If you would—not I.
Who would lend his arm to strengthen
Warfare with the right?
Who would give his pen to blacken
Freedom's page of light?
Who would lend his tongue to utter
Praise of tyranny?
Would you, brother? No—you would not.
If you would—not I.