 | Moral songs |  |
THE BLIND MAN.
Slowly down the village street,
With his dog, and with his staff,
Listening to your passing feet,
Listening to your merry laugh,
Looking with a vacant eye
In the face he cannot scan,
Feeling all he passes by,
Comes the poor blind man.
With his dog, and with his staff,
Listening to your passing feet,
Listening to your merry laugh,
Looking with a vacant eye
In the face he cannot scan,
Feeling all he passes by,
Comes the poor blind man.
Green leaves glisten on the trees,
Pretty flowers grow down below;
But the blind man never sees
Tree, or flower, or sunny glow;
No bright ray for him has shined,
Since his weary night began;
Little child, be very kind
To the poor blind man.
Pretty flowers grow down below;
But the blind man never sees
Tree, or flower, or sunny glow;
No bright ray for him has shined,
Since his weary night began;
Little child, be very kind
To the poor blind man.
Glorious sights by sea and land,
You can look on, you can know;
Take him by his withered hand,
Lead him where he wants to go.
Of bright things that meet your sight,
Teach him, tell him all you can,
God, Who made your eyes so bright,
Loves the poor blind man.
You can look on, you can know;
Take him by his withered hand,
Lead him where he wants to go.
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Teach him, tell him all you can,
God, Who made your eyes so bright,
Loves the poor blind man.
| Moral songs | |