She sings a pious ballad wearily; Her shivering body creeps on painful feet Along the muddy runlets of the street; The damp is in her throat: she coughs to free The cracked and husky notes that tear her chest; From side to side she looks with eyes that grope, Feverishly hungering in a hopeless hope, For pence that will not come; and pence mean rest, The rest that pain may steal at night from sleep, The rest that hunger gives when satisfied; Her fingers twitch to handle them; she sings Shriller; her eyes, too hot with tears to weep, Fasten upon a window, where, inside, A sweet voice mocks her with its carollings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A THUNDERSTORM IN TOWN by THOMAS HARDY IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 30 by ALFRED TENNYSON TO MRS. PRIESTLEY, WITH SOME DRAWINGS OF BIRDS AND INSECTS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT by SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD THE STREAM OF LIFE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT SEALED ORDERS by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |