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...