By Jesse Daniel Boone
If you only knew the point of view
Of the fellow living next to you
Perhaps you’d change your mind and range
And his actions wouldn’t seem so strange.
The trouble is this, you sneer and hiss
At many things which bring him bliss,
While pleasures you prize, to his keen eyes,
Are the ones that he doth most despise.
His religious views, his cushioned pews,
To you may seem but form and ruse,
While to him yours seem an idle dream,
Without a hopeful light or gleam.
He toils late at night and burns much light
And thinks his methods all are right,
But his neighbors say it is but play
And that he’s turning night to day.
If our neighbor smokes and sometimes jokes
We’re prone to offer jests and croaks,
When, if truth was known, he made a loan
And this is how we make stone.
Your hobbies, to you, seem right and true,
But for some others they will not do;
They are yours to ride with pomp and pride,
But remember, they’re not for the whole world-wide
From the front page of The Carolina Mountaineer and Waynesville Courier, July 9, 1923
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