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A book of Bristol sonnets

By H. D. Rawnsley

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THE CRIPPLES' HOME,
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


44

THE CRIPPLES' HOME,

34, RICHMOND TERRACE, CLIFTON.

Oh, ye who help creation to its end,
And to God's ruined temples reverence give,
Heaven's heart is yours, ye needs must ever live,
Ever our City's hands assistance lend;
Oh, that a lyrist's skill a sonnet penned,
Could, for the crutch, a moment's health contrive;
And those, who suffer sinless, but believe,
And smile to think their shattered fates might mend;
Ye knew by art that Charity inspires,
How, though her harp be broken, nature sings;
In lanes and alleys found the crooked wires,
And tuned to perfect love the broken strings;
So that from upland palace, marshland street,
Henceforth the songs of men and angels meet!