Within a poor man's squalid home I stood;
The one bare chamber, where his work-worn wife
Above the stove and wash-tub passed her life,
Next the sty where they slept with all their brood.
. . . . . . . . . .
I saw a great house with the portals wide
Upon a banquet room, and from without
The guests descending in a brilliant line
By the stairs' statued niches, and beside
The loveliest of the gemmed and silken rout,
The poor man's landlord leading down to dine.
— W. D. HOWELLS, Vision, in Stops of Various Quills.
Comments
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.