The poor dumb creatures of the field, that call <br />So sadly to their young; whose narrow mind, <br />Consciously helpless, looks up to mankind <br />Through piteous pleading eyes; that live in thrall, <br />Or, stricken in the shambles, groaning fall - <br />Thinking of these, how little grace they find, <br />And then of thee who never wast unkind, <br />And of our love, I could weep for them all, <br />This is the gift of Love, that we, so blest, <br />Should feel for the afflicted; that we twain <br />Should be united against wrong and pain, <br />The slaughtered lamb, the wild bird's rifled nest, <br />And, most of all, the fraud and force that stain <br />Homes of the human poor and the oppressed.<br /><br />John Evelyn Barlas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-sonnet-5/
