Classic Poem

I beg of you, I beg of you, my brothers,
For my need is very sore;
Not for gold and not for silver do I ask you,
But for something even more:
From the depths of your hearts' pity let it be —
Pray for me.

I beg of those whose robes of radiant whiteness
Have been kept without a stain;
Of you who, stung to death by serpent Pleasure,
Found the healing Angel Pain;
Whether holy or forgiven you may be —
Pray for me.

I beg of you calm souls whose wondering pity
Looks at paths you never trod:
I beg of you who suffer — for all sorrow
Must be very near to God —
And the need is even greater than you see —
Pray for me

I beg of you, O children, for He loves you,
And He loves your prayers the best:
Fold your little hands together, and ask Jesus
That the weary may have rest,
That a bird caught in a net may be set free —
Pray for me.

I beg of you who stand before the Altar,
Whose anointed hands upraise
All the sin and all the sorrow of the Ages,
All the love and all the praise,
And the glory which was always and shall be —
Pray for me.

I beg of you — of you who through Life's battle
Our dear Lord has set apart,
That while we who love the peril are made captives,
Still the Church may have its Heart
Which is fettered that our souls may be set free —
Pray for me.

I beg of you, I beg of you, my brothers,
For an alms this very day;
I am standing on your doorstep as a Beggar
Who will not be turned away,
And the Charity you give my soul shall be —
Pray for me!