Is this a holy thing to see. <br />In a rich and fruitful land. <br />Babes reduced to misery. <br />Fed with cold and usurous hand? <br /> <br />Is that trembling cry a song? <br />Can it be a song of joy? <br />And so many children poor? <br />It is a land of poverty! <br /> <br />And their sun does never shine. <br />And their fields are bleak & bare. <br />And their ways are fill'd with thorns <br />It is eternal winter there. <br /> <br />For where-e'er the sun does shine. <br />And where-e'er the rain does fall: <br />Babe can never hunger there, <br />Nor poverty the mind appall.<br /><br />William Blake<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/holy-thursday-experience/
