Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/111

 A poor outcast, yet by right of nature
 * Sweet as odour of the upland thyme.

Scapegoat of a people's sins, and hunted,
 * Howled at, hooted to the wilderness,

To that wilderness of deaf hearts, blunted
 * To the depths of woman's dumb distress.

Jetsam, flotsam of the monster city,
 * Spurned, defiled, reviled, that outcast came

To those babes that whined for love and pity,
 * Gave them bread bought with the wage of shame.

Gave them bread, and gave them warm, maternal
 * Kisses not on sale for any price:

Yea, a spark, a flash of some eternal
 * Sympathy shone through those haunted eyes.

Ah, perchance through her dark life's confusion,
 * Through the haste and taste of fevered hours,

Gusts of memory on her youth's pollution
 * Blew forgotten scents of faded flowers.