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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I see the tall church steeples, They reach so far, so far, But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart, Where the starving people are. I hear the church bells ringing Their chimes on the morning air; But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear The poor man’s cry of despair. Thicker and thicker the churches, Nearer and nearer the sky – But alack for their creeds while the poor man’s needs Grow deeper as years roll by.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
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