A Child of the People And Other Poems. By James Chapman Woods |
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A PHARISEE. |
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 | A Child of the People |  |
136
A PHARISEE.
Room for her! Let her pass!
Shrink from her, reeking with gin;
Her touch; her forehead of brass,
Seared with the scrawl of her sin.
Shrink from her, reeking with gin;
Her touch; her forehead of brass,
Seared with the scrawl of her sin.
See her shuffle along,
In the gutter now, in the road,
With a curse or scrap of a song,
To the kennel she claims for abode.
In the gutter now, in the road,
With a curse or scrap of a song,
To the kennel she claims for abode.
Damn her with your last look;
Little she knows or cares;
Then back to your banking-book
And hypocritical prayers!
Little she knows or cares;
Then back to your banking-book
And hypocritical prayers!
O my friend, my friend,
Your charity fits you well!
Some things will be known in the end!
Who first set her straight for hell?
Your charity fits you well!
Some things will be known in the end!
Who first set her straight for hell?
Many a ripe Eve-apple
You've plucked and tossed to the street;
Now you go to a West-end chapel,
And sit in the uppermost seat.
You've plucked and tossed to the street;
Now you go to a West-end chapel,
And sit in the uppermost seat.
137
“These things are best forgotten;
Youth will be wild,”—say you?
Ay, but this fruit, found rotten,
In somebody's garden grew.
Youth will be wild,”—say you?
Ay, but this fruit, found rotten,
In somebody's garden grew.
What if your daughters be taken
In a net like that you spread;—
If they tramp the streets forsaken,
And sleep some night in a shed!
In a net like that you spread;—
If they tramp the streets forsaken,
And sleep some night in a shed!
There are laws of compensation,
Depend on it, yet unlearned:
Sharp strokes of retaliation,
Or ever the earth be burned.
Depend on it, yet unlearned:
Sharp strokes of retaliation,
Or ever the earth be burned.
God works in no worldly way;
He casts her down to the pit;
He lets you alone to-day;
Some day you will smart for it.
He casts her down to the pit;
He lets you alone to-day;
Some day you will smart for it.
Meanwhile shrink back, let her pass;
Pace proud, grow green with your gall.
There is rest for her; but alas
For you, if your God rules all!
Pace proud, grow green with your gall.
There is rest for her; but alas
For you, if your God rules all!
| A Child of the People | |