The Unregarded Toils Of The Poor Poem by Mary Botham Howitt
The Unregarded Toils Of The Poor
Alas! what secret tears are shed,
What wounded spirits bleed;
What loving hearts are sundered
And yet man takes no heed!
He goeth in his daily course,
Made fat with oil and wine,
And pitieth not the weary souls
That in his bondage pine, -
That turn for him the mazy wheel,
That delve for him the mine!
And pitieth not the children small
In noisy factories dim,
That all day long, lean, pale, and faint,
Do heavy tasks for him!
To him they are but as the stones
Beneath his feet that lie:
It entereth not his thoughts that they
From him claim sympathy:
It entereth not his thoughts that God
Heareth the sufferer's groan,
That in His righteous eye their life
Is precious as his own.
...........a poignant write, masterfully penned....and it's true no great man can arise to the highest pedestal without help from those below ★
Amazing thoughts at par with the thoughts of a saint who realizes that one must have gratitude for all those who directly or indirectly help him to lead a peaceful and comfortable life.Thanks for sharing.10 points.
where are these hardworking people they are replaced by people that use their thumbs to work and sit in corner by themselves...let Asians do the work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 7:31:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
She wrote these in the 1800's but they read well to the modern ear. More important, what she speaks about is just as important and pertinent now as it was back then. But isn't it depressing that human nature has not change in all this time of technological advancements?