g; for though well-fed,
With warmer garments than before,
He hath no place to lay his head,
On turning from my friendly door.

I slip some silver in his hand,
('Twill purchase shelter for the night,)
Then, silent and remorseful, stand
To watch his bent form out of sight.

On, on he goes through snow and sleet,
With nothing more of warmth and cheer!
From such a home to such a street!
Ah, should I not have kept him here?

My room is no less bright and warm,
But all its charm and joy have fled;
That lonely figure in the storm
Leaves both our hearts uncomforted.

For this is but one tiny wave
In life's vast, shoreless sea of woe,--
One note in man's hoarse cry to save,
Resounding o'er its ebb and flow;

I ask myself in blank dismay,--
Ought I my little wealth to own?
Yet, should I give it all away,
'Twere but a drop to ocean thrown!

Great God! if what I dimly see,
In this small section of mankind,
Of pain and want and misery,
Can thus bring anguish to my mind,

How canst _Thou_ view the awful _whole_,
As our ensanguined planet rolls
From unknown source to unknown goal
Its freight of suffering human souls?

Permitted pain!--the first and last
Of riddles that we strive to solve,
More poignant ever, and more vast,
As man's mentalities evolve,

I hear thy victims' ceaseless wails,
I view the path my race hath trod,
And at the sight my spirit quails,
And cries in agony to God!

THE SILVER HERONS

Within a home for captive beasts
Whose world had dwindled to a cage,
I noted in their mournful eyes
Such resignation, fear, and rage,
I longed at once to set them free,
And send them over land and sea
To live again in liberty.

For them no more the mountain range,
The desert vast, the jungle's lair!
Their meaner fate through grated bars
To feel the public's hateful stare;
Poor prisoners! doomed henceforth to pace
With stinted strides a narrow space,
And, daily, gaping crowds to face.

At length I stood before a cage,
Where, guarded by a loftier screen,
Were artificial rocks, and pools,
And strips of vegetation green;
There, perched upon some rocky mound,
Or crouching on the miry ground,
A flock of waterfowl I found.

Storks, poised upon a single leg,
Stood dreaming of the eternal Nile,--
The Mecca of their winter flight,
When lured by Egypt's sunny smile;
While ducks and geese, in gabbling mood,
Explored the muddy pond for food,
Attended by their noisy brood.

Their keeper brought th