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