Houseless and homeless and Godless as well,
Habitant here of this earth made a hell;
Fearing no other, for what could be worse?—
Living forever 'neath poverty's curse.
God? He's a luxury those can afford
Who have had plenty and feasts at their board.
Hell and hereafter and devils to come?—
Threats that mean nothing to brain that is numb.

Look! He is dressed in the rags that degrade.
Hark! how he pleads—he dares never upbraid.
List! how he curses you under his breath,
Damning your soul to the ultimate death.
Watch! for the gleam of the hate he's suppressed—
Hate that was born of his wrongs unredressed
Clasp, while you may, his hard hand and be just—
Else, on the morrow, to torment he'll thrust.

Here he was brought, and his burden is great—
Made more unbearable, seeing your state.
Put for a moment yourself in his place;
Think of the future he surely must face;
Plead, as he pleads, for a chance in this world—
Take for your answer the “No” that is hurled.
Crushed and insulted—Why should it surprise
Rich that, rebellious, he some day shall rise?

“Living on garbage and gaunt as a hound,
You would be virtuous, witty, profound?
Doubtless! And you would have reasoned it out
‘Living in hovels and doing without
Sanctifies souls’; but you know,” he objects,
“Brutes have but bodies, and reason neglects
Brain starved and stunted—Ah! souls, did you say?
Bodies are sure and still potent to slay.”

Ah! What a pity tomorrow's poor won't
Stand to be starved and pitied! Pray don't
Look for humanity—we've bred for brutes;
Ask not for love to abide in such suits;
Think not to find when their frenzy is fierce
Kindness controlling their sword-points that pierce.
Mercy? Ah, well! They shall grant what we have shown.
God? Call upon Him! Perchance he will own.