Shut off from the world with its light and love,
A joyless prison-house save in name,
With waves of sweltering heat from above,--
From around each corner one meets the same!
Only ill-smelling and fetid air
Is breathed by the babies God leases there!
Not a butterfly blown from the hills of green,
Gives a hint of the wonderful life without;
Not a rainbow of promise is ever seen,--
Nothing but crime and disease about!
No vesper bell calls to praise and prayer,--
Poor little dwarf souls starving there!
Never a carol or note of bird,
As he melts away in the azure blue,
From the tenement house is ever heard;
Nor is felt the wealth of diamond dew,--
Only curses and oaths fill the smoky air,
To poison the babies God leases there!
Poor little tenement souls that grow
Away from the flowers--by bricks shut in;
Never the sweetness of life to know,
Only surrounded by crime and sin!
The pleasures of living you sure should share,--
Dear little babies God leases there!