 | Moral songs |  |
THE BEGGAR BOY.
When the wind blows loud and fearful,
And the rain is pouring fast,
And the cottage matron careful
Shuts her door against the blast;
And the rain is pouring fast,
And the cottage matron careful
Shuts her door against the blast;
When lone mothers as they hearken,
Think of sailor sons at sea,
And the eve begins to darken,
While the clocks are striking three;
Think of sailor sons at sea,
And the eve begins to darken,
While the clocks are striking three;
When the pavement echoes only,
Now and then to passing feet;
Still the beggar boy goes lonely,
Up and down the empty street.
Now and then to passing feet;
Still the beggar boy goes lonely,
Up and down the empty street.
44
On his brow the wet hair bristles,
And his feet are blue with cold,
And the wind at pleasure whistles,
Through his garments torn and old.
And his feet are blue with cold,
And the wind at pleasure whistles,
Through his garments torn and old.
You can hear the plaint he utters,
Standing dripping at your door,
Through the splashing in the gutters,
When the wind has lulled its roar.
Standing dripping at your door,
Through the splashing in the gutters,
When the wind has lulled its roar.
Little children playing gladly,
In the parlour bright and warm,
Look out kindly, look out sadly
On the beggar in the storm.
In the parlour bright and warm,
Look out kindly, look out sadly
On the beggar in the storm.
Speak ye softly to each other,
Standing by the window pane;
“Had he father, had he mother,
Would they leave him in the rain?
Standing by the window pane;
“Had he father, had he mother,
Would they leave him in the rain?
“In our home is peace and pleasure,
We are loved and cared about,
We must give from our full measure,
To the wanderer without.”
We are loved and cared about,
We must give from our full measure,
To the wanderer without.”
Little children of the peasant,
Sitting on the sanded floor,
While the low neat room looks pleasant,
And your work is nearly o'er;
Sitting on the sanded floor,
While the low neat room looks pleasant,
And your work is nearly o'er;
See the beggar passes slowly,
By your lattice low and wet,
Ye are needy, ye are lowly,
Here is one that's poorer yet.
By your lattice low and wet,
Ye are needy, ye are lowly,
Here is one that's poorer yet.
45
Lend an ear to his appealing,
Spare a morsel from your store,
Give him comfort and kind feeling,
If ye cannot give him more.
Spare a morsel from your store,
Give him comfort and kind feeling,
If ye cannot give him more.
For the full heart overflowing,
Shows its love by gentle deed;
And the poor heart pities, knowing
Well the misery of need.
Shows its love by gentle deed;
And the poor heart pities, knowing
Well the misery of need.
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