Only a cap; but it gave
Capless and comfortless one
Happiness, bright as the brave,
Beautiful light of the sun.
Soft may the sanctified sod
Rest on the father who led
Bob from the gutter, unshod --
Covered his cold little head!
Bob from the foot to the crown
Measured a yard, and no more --
Baby alone in the town,
Homeless, and hungry, and sore --
Child that was never a child,
Hiding away from the rain,
Draggled and dirty and wild,
Down in a pipe of the drain.
Poor little beggar was Bob --
Couldn't afford to be sick,
Getting a penny a job,
Sometimes a curse and a kick.
Father was killed by the drink;
Mother was driven to shame;
Bob couldn't manage to think --
He had forgotten their name.
God was in heaven above,
Flowers illumined the ground,
Women of infinite love
Lived in the palaces round --
Saints with the character sweet
Found in the fathers of old,
Laboured in alley and street --
Baby slept out in the cold.
Nobody noticed the child --
Nobody knew of the mite
Creeping about like a wild
Thing in the shadow of night.
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