Ireland for the Irish Rhymes and Reasons Against Landlordism with a Preface on Fenianism and Republicanism. By W. J. Linton, Formerly of the Irish "Nation" |
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THE POOR-HOUSE |
 | Ireland for the Irish |  |
THE POOR-HOUSE
Where the aged and infirm, and the worn or crippled, rest!
Where stout-limb'd Laziness may bask as in a sunny nest!
Good friend! or good economist! may it please you look within,
And note what alms are given in this Lazar-house of Sin.
Where stout-limb'd Laziness may bask as in a sunny nest!
Good friend! or good economist! may it please you look within,
And note what alms are given in this Lazar-house of Sin.
Where the fever'd and the outworn and the plunder'd,—yes! the poor,—
May lie, we'll say, more pleasantly than at the rich man's door;
Where Hunger hath his grudging dole, and Grief at least may hide—
Not to distress the gentlefolk upon the world's wayside.
May lie, we'll say, more pleasantly than at the rich man's door;
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Not to distress the gentlefolk upon the world's wayside.
Where Man forgets his manhood, to become a stolid slave;
Where Wifehood is forbidden,—is there marriage in the grave?
Where the Child (God's wither'd children!) has no childishness at all,
But that stare of worse than brutishness, that scarcely knows its stall.
Where Wifehood is forbidden,—is there marriage in the grave?
Where the Child (God's wither'd children!) has no childishness at all,
But that stare of worse than brutishness, that scarcely knows its stall.
Where Age dies all unsolaced; where the living slave is tomb'd;
Where Vice may play with nurslings; where Decrepitude is womb'd;
Where Hate grins like an idiot; and Despair could hardly hear
The tramp of the Archangel, the Avenger thundering near.
Where Vice may play with nurslings; where Decrepitude is womb'd;
Where Hate grins like an idiot; and Despair could hardly hear
The tramp of the Archangel, the Avenger thundering near.
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