Behold a beggar playing sad a tune!
By heart, on his own poor, old harmonium;
Though blind, he seems to be in God’s commune;
Alas! is this the new millennium?
Behold a lady working by hand-loom;
A widow poor, she has a female child!
Victim of consumption that spread to womb;
That turns all hearts of sympathy so wild.
Behold the handicapped who jobs the lathe!
With fore-limbs lost by accident, the smiles;
’Tis hard and dangerous; his sweat does bathe;
In dignity he lives and walks home miles.
And lo, the whole some man in car complains,
And curses all while driving drunk through lanes!