Dreams and days | ||
97
CHARITY
I
Unarmed she goeth; yet her handsStrike deeper awe than steel-caparison'd bands.
No fatal hurt of foe she fears,—
Veiled, as with mail, in mist of gentle tears.
II
'Gainst her thou canst not bar the door:Like air she enters, where none dared before.
Even to the rich she can forgive
Their regal selfishness,—and let them live!
Dreams and days | ||