Classic Poem

The Voice of the Men.

We are the Vagabonds that sleep
In ditches by the midnight ways
Where wolves beneath the gibbets leap:
Our hands against black Fate we raise
In lifelong turmoil of affrays,
Until we die, in some dark den,
The death of dogs that hunger slays:
For we are hated of all men.

The Voice of the Women.

We are the Courtesans that creep
Beyond the town's lamp-litten haze,
Toward the bridges of the deep:
We watch the dawn with sinful gaze,
And dreaming of the golden days
When Jesus hallowed Magdalen,
We seek death in the river's maze:
For we are hated of all men.

The Voice of the Children.

We are the Innocents that weep,
While our bones rot with foul decays,
For all the woes that we must reap:
No mother sings us lulling lays,
No father o'er our slumber prays,
But forth we fare from den to den
To filch the death-bread of the strays:
For we are hated by all men.

The Envoy of the Outcasts.

Beware, O Kings whom Mammon sways,
Lest morrows nearer than ye ken
With our red flags of battle blaze!
For we are hated of all men.