The crippled and deformed, with cane and crutch,

Came limping by, as eddies in the stream;

The mendicant, whose eyes might never see

The golden sunlight, felt his way along,

And though the world was dark, still shrank from death.

Some faces showed the trace of recent tears,

And some revealed the impress of despair;

Others endeavored with a careless smile

To hide a breast surcharged with hopelessness,

As one afflicted with a foul disease

Strives to avoid the scrutinizing gaze

By the assumption of indifference;

Some whose misfortunes and adversities

And oft repeated disappointments, dried

The fountain heads of kindness, and had turned

Life's sweetest joys to gall and bitterness.

Each face betrayed some sort or form of woe;

In more than one I read a tragedy.

How complex is existence! What a maze

Of complication and entanglement!

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