THE BEGGAR
BY JAMES W. FOLEY
ALWAYS beside me as I go my way
This beggar, Time, walks with his outstretched palms,
Demanding, not beseeching, of me alms—
Alms of the precious hours of my day.
So side by side we walk until my day
Is growing dusk, and Time’s purse of the years
Holds alms of mine, bright-jeweled with my tears,
Since I have given these treasured hours away.