The poetical works of John Greenleaf Whittier | ||
The Traveller broke the pause. “I've seen
The Brothers down the long street steal,
Black, silent, masked, the crowd between,
And felt to doff my hat and kneel
With heart, if not with knee, in prayer,
For blessings on their pious care.”
The Reader wiped his glasses: “Friends of mine,
We'll try our home-brewed next, instead of foreign wine.”
The Brothers down the long street steal,
Black, silent, masked, the crowd between,
And felt to doff my hat and kneel
With heart, if not with knee, in prayer,
For blessings on their pious care.”
255
We'll try our home-brewed next, instead of foreign wine.”
The poetical works of John Greenleaf Whittier | ||