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To “a Certain Rich Man” "I HAVE FIVE BRETHREN.... FATHER, I BESEECH THEE ... LEST THEY COME TO THIS PLACE" St. Luke's Gospel Thou wouldst not part thy spoil Gained from the beggar's want, the weakling's toil, Nor spare a jot of sumptuousness or state For Lazarus at the gate. And in the appalling night Of expiation, as in day's delight, Thou heldst thy niggard hand; it would not share One hour of thy despair. Those five—thy prayer for them! O generous! who, condemned, wouldst not condemn, Whose ultimate human greatness proved thee so A miser of thy woe. Alice Meynell's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1233 |
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