Dramatic Scenes :: :: University of Virginia Library

O Poverty! O Poverty!
Children all of Poverty!
Thou who tak'st thy humble stand
Trading in the public way!
Thou, with needle in thy hand,
Toiling from the birth of morning
Till the death of day!
Thou who labourest in the harvest
For the wealthy farmer's gain!

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Thou whose pen must run for ever,
(Ever in a merry vein,)
Thorough days and nights of pain!
Thou whom Hunger's talons clutch,
Or Palsy smiteth with her crutch!
Thou who seek'st the 'Spital's bed,
Stumbling o'er the quick and dead!
Beggar of the sightless eye,
Martyr of the wind and storm,
Brother of each passer-by,
Who doth bare his shrunken form
To the Winter's cruelty!
Thou,—whate'er thy shape or feature,
Or thy name unknown, or nature,
Natural child of Poverty!
Know—that there are they who give
Their pity to all things that live,
And suffer; that in every heart
There is still a better part;
That at last the winter yieldeth,
And the ice is conquered,—won
By the glory of the Sun;
That the evil of the earth
Dieth in a nobler birth;
That all sorrow and all pain
Are but travelling shadows vain,
Fading in the mists of Time,
Like the poet's passing rhyme!