Begging a crust from thy little store.
Or the poor, cheap rest that the weary seek;
Remember thou, that the mighty wheel
Of fortune changes, day by day;
Never be deaf to the poors’ appeal—
Turn not away.
If thy brother fall in the slippery path,
And his hands are stained with human sin,
If the sword of the world is raised in wrath,
And no city of refuge invites him in;