Page:Beggar's petition.pdf/3



“Yon house, erected on the rising ground,

"With tempting aspect drew me from my road;

“For plenty there a residence has found,

“And grandeur a magnificent abode!

“Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor!

“There as I crav’d a morsel of their bread,

“A pamper’d menial drove me from the door,

“To seek a shelter in a humbler shed.

“Oh! take me to your hospitable dome:

“Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold!

“Short is my passage to the friendly tomb,

“For I am poor and miserably old.

“Shou’d I reveal the sources of my grief,

“If soft humanity e’er touch’d your breast,

“Your hands wou’d not withhold the kind relief,

“And tears of pity wou’d not be represt.

“Heav’n sends misfortunes: why shou’d we repine?

“’Tis Heaven has brought me to this state you see,

“And your condition may me be soon like mine,

“The child of sorrow and of misery!