I wrote some men and women in the city,
Who give poor children help, as well as pity,
"Send out as many as you can afford!
And every one shall have a month's clean board,
And carry back, from out our plenteous store,
Enough to keep himself a fortnight more."
The first night that we sat expecting them,
I did what some whole families would condemn—
I moulded up my feelings into rhyme,
In something less than fifteen minutes' time,
Then voiced it to whoever would come near;
I'll put the imposition right in here:
"AND CARRY BACK, FROM OUT OUR PLENTEOUS STORE,
ENOUGH TO KEEP HIMSELF A FORTNIGHT MORE."
[LET THE CLOTH BE WHITE.]
Go set the table, Mary, an' let the cloth be white!
The hungry city children are comin' here to-night;
The children from the city, with features pinched an' spare,
Are comin' here to get a breath of God's untainted air.
They come from out the dungeons where they with want were chained;
From places dark an' dismal, by tears of sorrow stained;
From where a thousand shadows are murdering all the light:
Set well the table, Mary dear, an' let the cloth be white!
"THE HUNGRY CITY CHILDREN ARE COMING HERE TO-NIGHT."