Poor, blind, unprofitable servants, all,
Are we alway.
J. G. Whittier.
Grim-hearted world, that look’st with Levite eyes
On those poor fallen by too much faith in man,
She that upon thy freezing threshold lies,
Starved to more sinning by thy savage ban,—
Seeking that refuge because foulest vice
More godlike than thy virtue is, whose span
Shuts out the wretched only,—is more free