Apology for Vagrants. Anon

For him, who, lost up ev'ry hope of life, Has long with fortune held unequal strife, Known to no human love, no human care, The friendless, homeless object of despair; For the poor vagrant, feel, while he complains, Nor from sad freedom send to sadder chains. Alike, if folly or misfortune brought Those last of woes his evil days have wrought; Relieve with social Mercy, and with me, Folly's misfortune in the first degree.

Perhaps on some inhospitable shore The houseless wretch a widow'd parent bore; Who, then, no more by golden prospects led, Of the poor Indian begg'd a leafy bed. Cold on Canadian hills, or Minden's plain, Perhaps that parent mourn'd her soldier slain; Bent o'er her babe, her eye dissolv'd in dew, The big drops mingling with the milk he drew, Gave the sad presage of his future years, The child of misery, baptiz'd in tears!