Page:Ethel Churchill Fragments III.pdf/8



Few, save the poor, feel for the poor: The rich know not how hard It is to be of needful food And needful rest debarred.

Their paths are paths of plenteousness, They sleep on silk and down; And never think how heavily The weary head lies down.

They know not of the scanty meal, With small pale faces round; No fire upon the cold damp hearth When snow is on the ground.

They never by the window lean, And see the gay pass by; Then take their weary task again, But with a sadder eye.