IN Lyons, on the mart of that French town, Years since, a woman leading a fair child, Craved a small alms of one, who, walking down The thoroughfare, caught the child's glance and smiled To see, behind its eyes, a noble soul; He paused, but found he had no coin to dole. His guardian angel warned him not to lose This chance of pearl to do another good; So, as he waited, sorry to refuse The asked-for penny, there aside he stood, And with his hat held, as by limb the nest, He covered his kind face and sung his best. The sky was blue above, and all the lane Of commerce, where the singer stood, was filled, And many paused, and listening, paused again To hear the voice that through and through them thrilled. I think the guardian angel helped along The cry for pity, woven in a song. The hat of its stamped brood was emptied soon Into the woman's lap, who drenched with tears Her kiss upon the hand of help; 'twas noon, And noon in her glad heart drove forth her fears. The singer, pleased, passed on and softly tho't "Men will not know by whom this deed was wrought." But when at night he came upon the stage, Cheer after cheer went up from that wide throng, And flowers rained on him; naught could assuage The tumult of the welcome save the song That he had sweetly sung, with covered face, For the two beggars in the market-place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM THE CLOTE (WATER-LILY) by WILLIAM BARNES ROUGE BOUQUET [MARCH 7, 1918] by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 63 by PHILIP SIDNEY ONE'S-SELF I SING by WALT WHITMAN EVENING by ISABELLA LOCKHART ALDERMAN |