Are they our kindred? Must it be
That all the fools in all creation,
And knaves and thieves of every station
In life, can call me their relation?
But that's not all--the horse I ride,
The ox I yoke, the dog I chide,
The flesh and fish and fowl we feed on
Are kindred, too; is that agreed on?
Then kindred blood I quite disown,
Though it descended from a throne,
For it connects us down, also,
With everything that's mean and low--
Insects and reptiles, foul and clean,
And men a thousand times more mean.
Let's hear no more of noble blood,
For noble brains, or actions good,
Are only marks of true nobility.

The kindred which I claim with you,
Connects us with the just and true,
And great in purpose, heart and soul,
And makes us parts of that great whole
Whose bonds of all embracing love
A golden chain will ever prove
To bind us to the good above.
Then strive to elevate mankind
By operating on the mind;
The empire of good will extend,
A helping hand in trouble lend,
Go to thy brother in distress,