ONE night poor Jim had not a sou, Mike had enough for his own bed; "Take it: I'll walk the streets to-night," Said Mike, "and you lie down instead." So Mike walked out, but ne'er came back; We know not whether he is drowned, Or used his hands unlawfully; Is sick, or in some prison bound. Now Jim was dying fast, and he Took to the workhouse his old bones; To earn some water, bread, and sleep, They made that dying man break stones, He swooned upon his heavy task: They carried him to a black coach, And tearless strangers took him out -- A corpse! at the infirmary's porch. Since Jesus came with mercy and love, 'Tis nineteen hundred years and five; They made that dying man break stones, In faith that Christ is still alive. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: ST. CLOUD, MINNESOTA by KAREN SWENSON TO DANTE by VITTORIO AMEDEO ALFIERI LOVE'S APPARITION AND EVANISHMENT; AN ALLEGORICAL ROMANCE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER [DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE YOUTH AND AGE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE LA BELLA BONA ROBA by RICHARD LOVELACE |