OH, sweet Humanity! if e’er
The tide of pity in this breast
Should be calcin’d by grief and care,
Or stagnate–from my being blest,
Then, heav’n-born Goddess may thy name
Produce the deepest dye of shame!
Yet, whilst I feel for other’s woes,
And whilst the stream of pity flows,
And whilst this heart will sorrow greet,
In language gentle, kind, and sweet ,
Then in its mansion ever dwell,
Soothing distress with potent spell!
Ne’er can Oppression’s pointed thorn,
Or Pride’s malignant sneering scorn,
E’er find asylum in this breast,
Which heaves a sigh for the distresst,
Whilst readily this hand would spread
A pillow for affliction’s head!
And though this hand should be confin’d,
By Fortune proving rather blind ,
Yet whilst humanity resides,
And pity flows from Feeling’s tides,
Distress shall never plead in vain,
But always some assistance gain!
(Mary Hopkins Pilkington)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Sadness Poems, Language Poems, Humanity PoemsBased on Keywords: n-born, calcin