NEAR Clapham village, where fields began, <br />Saint Edward met a beggar man. <br />It was Christmas morning, the church bells tolled, <br />The old man trembled for the fierce cold. <br /> <br />Saint Edward cried, “It is monstrous sin <br />A beggar to lie in rags so thin! <br />An old gray-beard and the frost so keen: <br />I shall give him my fur-lined gaberdine.” <br /> <br />He stripped off his gaberdine of scarlet <br />And wrapped it round the aged varlet, <br />Who clutched at the folds with a muttered curse, <br />Quaking and chattering seven times worse. <br /> <br />Said Edward, “Sir, it would seem you freeze <br />Most bitter at your extremities. <br />Here are gloves and shoes and stockings also, <br />That warm upon your way you may go.” <br /> <br />The man took stocking and shoe and glove, <br />Blaspheming Christ our Saviour’s love, <br />Yet seemed to find but little relief, <br />Shaking and shivering like a leaf. <br /> <br />Said the saint again, “I have no great riches, <br />Yet take this tunic, take these breeches, <br />My shirt and my vest, take everything, <br />And give due thanks to Jesus the King.” <br /> <br />The saint stood naked upon the snow <br />Long miles from where he was lodged at Bowe, <br />Praying, “O God! my faith, it grows faint! <br />This would try the temper of any saint. <br /> <br />“Make clean my heart, Almighty, I pray, <br />And drive these sinful thoughts away. <br />Make clean my heart if it be Thy will, <br />This damned old rascal’s shivering still!” <br /> <br />He stooped, he touched the beggar man’s shoulder; <br />He asked him did the frost nip colder? <br />“Frost!” said the beggar, “no, stupid lad! <br />’Tis the palsy makes me shiver so bad.”<br /><br />Robert Graves<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shivering-beggar/
