A beggar in the street I saw, <br />Who held a hand like withered claw, <br /> As cold as clay; <br />But as I had no silver groat <br />To give, I buttoned up my coat <br /> And turned away. <br /> <br />And then I watched a working wife <br />Who bore the bitter load of life <br /> With lagging limb; <br />A penny from her purse she took, <br />And with sweet pity in her look <br /> Gave it to him. <br /> <br />Anon I spied a shabby dame <br />Who fed six sparrows as they came <br /> In famished flight; <br />She was so poor and frail and old, <br />Yet crumbs of her last crust she doled <br /> With pure delight. <br /> <br />Then sudden in my heart was born <br />For my sleek self a savage scorn,-- <br /> Urge to atone; <br />So when a starving cur I saw <br />I bandaged up its bleeding paw <br /> And bought a bone. <br /> <br />For God knows it is good to give; <br />We may not have so long to live, <br /> So if we can, <br />Let's do each day a kindly deed, <br />And stretch a hand to those in need, <br /> Bird, beast or man.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/compassion/
