Poem by Arthur William Symons

Of Charity

A beggar died last night; his soul
Went up to God, and said:
'I come uncalled, forgive it, Lord;
I died for want of bread.'

Then answered him the Lord of heaven:
'Son, how can this thing be?
Are not my saints on earth? and they
Had surely succoured thee.'

'Thy saints, O Lord,' the beggar said,
'Live holy lives of prayer;
How should they know of such as we?
We perish unaware.

'They strive to save our wicked souls
And fit them for the sky;
Meanwhile, not having bread to eat,
(Forgive!) our bodies die.'

Then the Lord God spake out of heaven
In wrath and angry pain:
'O men, for whom my Son hath died,
My Son hath lived in vain!' 

1. Serata Di Fiesta
2. In The Temple
3. By The Pool Of The Third Rosses
4. The Abandoned
5. At Burgos

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