And they laughed while their garments were drying,
In the yard at the back of her cot.
When the villagers slept, and the cricket and owl,
And the rustling of leaves were unheeded,
In the room of the sick, by the flickering light
Was she seen, where her presence was needed,
While her gaunt shadow danced on the wall.
And the out-casts who begged at her door for a crust,
Ere they went on their wearisome ways,
Felt that one thought them human and pitied their fate,