West London
Matthew Arnold
Crouch'd on the pavement close by Belgrave Square A tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied; A babe was in her arms, and at her side A 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 hied 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 attneds The unknown little from the unknowing great, And points us to a better time than ours.
Next 10 Poems
- Matthew Arnold : Worldly Place
- Matthew Arnold : Youth And Calm
- Richard Harris Barham : A Lay Of St. Gengulphus
- Richard Harris Barham : A Lay Of St. Nicholas
- Richard Harris Barham : Bagman's Dog, The : Mr. Peters's Story
- Richard Harris Barham : Black Mousquetaire, The : A Legend Of France
- Richard Harris Barham : Cynotaph, The
- Richard Harris Barham : Execution, The : A Sporting Anecdote Hon. Mr. Sucklethumbkin's Story
- Richard Harris Barham : Ghost, The
- Richard Harris Barham : Hand Of Glory, The : The Nurse's Story
Previous 10 Poems
- Matthew Arnold : Voice, The
- Matthew Arnold : To Marguriet: Continued
- Matthew Arnold : To Marguerite
- Matthew Arnold : To A Republican Friend
- Matthew Arnold : To A Friend
- Matthew Arnold : Thyrsis A Monody
- Matthew Arnold : The Voice
- Matthew Arnold : The Strayed Reveller
- Matthew Arnold : The Song Of Empedocles
- Matthew Arnold : The Song Of Callicles