Cheerless, through dens of want and death,
Where unregarded woe blasphemes
The Lord in whom we boast our faith,
The Christmas dayspring gleams.

Friend of the poor! that spak’st of one
Beside whose gate a lazar lay,
Dost mark the deeds of love undone
Where Love is preached today?

The man that leaves thy poor in hell,
And saith to his fed heart, Am I
My brother’s keeper, so I dwell
In halls that hear no cry?

The noisome tree, whereof the fruit
Is pomp and lust, which fills the air
With pestilence, and hath its root
In hunger and despair?

O Thou, whose smile the children knew!
Dost mark on yonder garret-bed,
Where weeps the rain the rafters through,
Three starvelings, and one dead?

And him who lolls in pleasure’s lap,
With dice and wine and paramour,
And tosses in a jockey’s cap
The wages of the poor?

Avenging God! who woke at length,
A hundred years gone by, and gave
For one tremendous hour the strength
Of Samson to the slave;

And made repent in tears and blood
The harsh oppressors of the world—
How long, ere yet of brotherhood
The banner be unfurled?

Alfred Hayes
The March of Man, 1891