West London

Crouch'd on the pavement close by Belgrave SquareA tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied;

A babe was in her arms, and at her sideA girl; their clothes were rags, their feet were bare.

Some labouring men, whose work lay somewhere there,

Pass'd opposite; she touch'd her girl, who

Across, and begg'd and came back satisfied.

The rich she had let pass with frozen stare.

Thought I:

Above her state this spirit towers;

She will not ask of aliens, but of friends,

Of sharers in a common human fate.

She turns from that cold succour, which

The unknown little from the unknowing great,

And points us to a better time than ours.