I, too, for light the world explore, And, trembling, tread where angels trod; Devout at every shrine adore, And follow after each new god. But by the altar everywhere I find the money-changer's stall; And littering every temple-stair The sick and sore like maggots crawl. … And always divers undertones Within the roaring tempest throb- The chink of gold, the laborer's groans, The infant's wail, the woman's sob. Hoarsely they beg of Fate to give A little lightening of their woe, A little time to love, to live, A little time to think and know. I see where from the slums may rise Some unexpected dreadful dawn- The gleam of steeled and scowling eyes, A flash of women's faces wan! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OH! WEEP FOR THOSE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE ONE LOST by ISAAC ROSENBERG FESTE'S SONG (2), FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE MORAL FABLES: THE FOX AND THE WOLF by AESOP ECHO by AULUS LICINIUS ARCHIAS GROWING OLD by KARLE WILSON BAKER |