Page:Two Poems - Browning and Browning (1854).djvu/8



Women leering through the gas, Just such bosoms used to nurse you! Men, turned wolves by famine—pass; Those can speak themselves, and curse you.

But these others—children small, Spilt like blots about the city, Quay, and street, and palace-wall— Take them up into your pity!

Bagged children with bare feet, Whom the angels in white raiment Know the names of, to repeat When they come on you for payment.

Bagged children, hungry-eyed, Huddled up out of the coldness On your doorsteps, side by side, Till your footman damns their boldness.