Classic Poem

Heavy and white the cold snow lay,
As, nearing my cottage one winter day,
I saw by the porch a foot-print small,
A bare little foot-print, toes and all,
Pressed — ah, so wearily! — into the snow,
As if the wee step had been jaded and slow.
" Poor little homeless waif! " I thought;
But the fleeting sympathy came to naught —
For pity may fall from a heart that 's gay
As lightly as snow-flakes melting away;
And soon would be greeting me, strong in their charms,
Bright little faces and warm little arms.

Closing the door, in a joyous glow,
I chided the children for crowding me so —
The glad little witches! as sunny and blessed
As ever a home-coming mother caressed.
Then I caught up the youngest, unnoticed before,
My sweet little Mabel, who sat on the floor.
" Why, my darling! What is it? " I cried, in surprise;
" Barefooted! " The little one lifted her eyes;
They were brimming with tears, and her cheek, too, was wet —
" Oh, my feet hurt me so! " " What has harmed them, my pet? "
" Why, just to see how it felt, you know,
I stood with my shoes off out there in the snow. "

That was all. But while fondling and making them warm —
The dear little feet that had tempted the storm —
And putting on soft little stocking and shoe,
A feeling of sudden remorse pierced me through.
That lingering foot-print! How soon I forgot
When I thought 't was a beggar-child passed by my cot!
O pale-blossomed pity that never bore fruit! —
I will pluck it away from my heart, branch and root.
Love teaches at last. Now their meaning I know —
The bare little foot-prints we see in the snow.