717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It`s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet— And haply, in the World— The Cruel—smiling—bowing World— That took its Cambric Way— Nor heard the timid cry for "Bread"— "Sweet Lady—Charity"— Among Redeemed Children If Trudging feet may stand The Barefoot time forgotten—so— The Sleet—the bitter Wind— The Childish Hands that teased for Pence Lifted adoring—them— To Him whom never Ragged—Coat Did supplicate in vain—SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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