 | Snow-berries. A book for young folks |  |
THE STREET BEGGAR.
Shake not your glossy curls with a “No,”
As you sit in the warm and rosy glow
'Twixt your hearth and pictured wall;
Ah, my lady, you do not know
How folk feel with their feet in the snow,
And no bright fire at all.
As you sit in the warm and rosy glow
'Twixt your hearth and pictured wall;
Ah, my lady, you do not know
How folk feel with their feet in the snow,
And no bright fire at all.
A sixpence! that you will never miss;
See what a baby you have to kiss,
Honor and wealth to prove;
Ah, my lady, you cannot guess
How folk feel in a night like this,
With no little child to love.
See what a baby you have to kiss,
Honor and wealth to prove;
Ah, my lady, you cannot guess
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With no little child to love.
From house to house I have gone all day,—
“Nothing for beggars,” is all they say,
Though a banquet waiting stands;
Ah, you never have known the way
Poor folk feel when their heads are gray
And palsy shaking their hands.
“Nothing for beggars,” is all they say,
Though a banquet waiting stands;
Ah, you never have known the way
Poor folk feel when their heads are gray
And palsy shaking their hands.
For sake of charity say not “No.”
I am almost famished,—I cannot go,—
I must steal or starve,—and why?
Because, my lady, you do not know
How folk feel with their feet in the snow,
Turned out from your fires to die.
I am almost famished,—I cannot go,—
I must steal or starve,—and why?
Because, my lady, you do not know
How folk feel with their feet in the snow,
Turned out from your fires to die.
| Snow-berries. A book for young folks | |