Poems (Cromwell)/The Beggar

by Gladys Cromwell

THE BEGGAR

Showing his ill-made frame
 And mumbling of troubles many,
Along a public street,
 The cripple calls for a penny.

Inviting sympathy,
 By his rags and his withered arm.
He follows and frets till we argue
 A penny can do him no harm.
.......
Just now, in this intimate room,
 Sagacious, clever and witty,
Exposing his hardships, a Beggar
 Beckoned his friends for pity.

Ugh! By displaying his pains,
 By showing his heart was ashen,
By revealing his twisted life,
 He played for a glance of compassion.

Strange how I longed to laugh;
 His feebleness was funny.
I thought: "He's only a Beggar
 And affection is golden money.

"Scorn will do for this Beggar,
 And a smile will send him away;
I will keep my love for One
 Who may need my love some day.

"I will keep my love for One
 Who is brave and ashamed of tears:
The importunity
 Of silence reaches my ears;—

"Life on its lonely way
 Moving on lonely wings,
And the mute mind, alone
 With dark imaginings."

I thought, "I will keep my love,—
 I will keep my tenderness,
For One who is piteous,
 Hiding his loneliness."