BETA

Under a Railway Arch.

Poor, worn-out, mortals ! here you lie,1
Stretched on your sandwich-boards, asleep !2
Unconscious of the passers by ;3
Unheedful of what miseries steep4
Your waking hours, without, within.5
To rouse you, were a sin.6
In yonder street the sun’s ablaze :7
I catch the river’s glittering light8
At end of it : their careless ways9
The crowds go on; in sin’s despite,10
In sorrow’s neighbourhood, content.11
You’re lost in wonderment ?12
He made us all, whose name is Good :13
He counts each hair upon our head :14
He marks the inmost spirit’s mood :15
On every soul his grace is shed.16
You think these beggars give the lie17
To such theology ?18
Look ! the dim coolness of this place,19
How soothingly it’s lulled to rest20
Each unwashed, haggard, hungry face !21
No child upon its mother’s breast22
Sleeps sounder. All life’s troubles cease !23
What deep, oblivious peace !24