Classic Poem

1.

Away, to the street — Let us see the bricks grow;
For Crime is Want's watchman! and in the back row
A quick-breathing creature creeps silent and slow,
Though eye hath not seen him and no man can know,
Till he kisses gaunt faces! and down his pets go,
Where the fever'd of famine rot richly below.

2.

He breathes in gaunt faces the breath of his name!
Then, strength, like a giant, upgirds the weak frame;
The cheeks of the farthingless burst into flame;
Joy laugheth in frenzy, where joy never came;
And victimless victims, from horror and shame
Are rescu'd by one whom our gods never blame.

3.

Then, Fever of Famine! why seek'st thou the row
Where Law curses Labour, as soot sullies snow?
Dumb Dog of Earth's Devils! why dost thou not go
Where Rapine's Saint Richmond wrings blessings from woe?
Or Buckingham's Wines-of-the-Famine-Act glow?
Or hypocrite Ashley is hypocrite's beau?

4.

Nay, Breather of Darkness! work wisely, and save
The few and the many, the lord and the slave;
Ere hunger's blind ocean, all masterless, rave:
Ere famine's wild spirit be whirlwind and wave;
And pomp, not unwept by the good and the brave,
Write " Child of my Sorrow, " on Apathy's grave!

5.

Oh, better reap blessings, where curses are sown,
And share with the sowers the good that is grown,
Than breathe on thy masters the breath they have blown,
To quench their meek souls in a hell of their own,
Invisibly teaching to shudder and groan
The damn'd on all hearths, from the hut to the throne!