 | At Sunset |  |
145
IN THE STREET
Along the way bright chariots rolled,
With pleasure-seekers, gay and bold.
The throng passed by and knew me not,
The service of my life forgot.
With pleasure-seekers, gay and bold.
The throng passed by and knew me not,
The service of my life forgot.
The flush of youth, the pride of wealth,
Broadly displayed, though gained by stealth,
All, all their eager game pursued.
Neglected in the street I stood.
Broadly displayed, though gained by stealth,
All, all their eager game pursued.
Neglected in the street I stood.
In a poor attic, overhead,
Were certain maids who sewed for bread,
Cheering their work with songs of mine.
Musing, I cried, “Rich gifts may please,
But where are givers like to these
Who, without knowledge or design,
Here crown me with a joy divine?”
Were certain maids who sewed for bread,
Cheering their work with songs of mine.
Musing, I cried, “Rich gifts may please,
But where are givers like to these
Who, without knowledge or design,
Here crown me with a joy divine?”
| At Sunset | |