Poetry.
The following simple and touching lines from the 'Glasgow Citizen,' have been forwarded to us by a correspondent : —
HANDS AND HEARTS.
NOBTH. There are hands by hundred thousands In the crowded North Empty, idle, yet for labor, Not for alms, si retched forth. Hands all thin and white and bloodlesa, Free from stain or soil-— Hands struck helpless, yet bo willing If they could to toil! Hands that failing fitting labor Cannot long forbear, Or to clench in desperation Or to fold in prayer ■Whirr of working wheels is silent, Chimneys smoke no more : Famine and her sister Fever Knock at every door. SOUTH. Here are hearts hy hundred thousands Full of *uth and pain, Till those hands struck sudden idle Are at work again. Humble hearts whose mite is ready Hungrier mouths to feed; Haughty hearts, brought low by thinking Of their brothers' need. Hearts that only seek for channels Wherein best may go, All these streams of human kindness Charged to overflow. Then to work through clay and gravel, Dull rock, thirsty Band. From these brimming hearts make passage To those failing hands.
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Bibliographic details
Wellington Independent, Volume XVII, Issue 1845, 21 March 1863, Page 5
Word Count
186Poetry. Wellington Independent, Volume XVII, Issue 1845, 21 March 1863, Page 5
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