Where work lay for the asking it seemed that men
MIGHT work,
But prejudice was rampant in every shop and field;
And, "What if you ARE trying, MY scythe you may
not wield!"
Men told the thief, who answered--"Indeed, I will
not shirk!"
And carpenters and builders turned from him with
a smirk,
And farmers hurried by him to house the harvest's
yield.
And so he took his dagger, all rusted, and his shield,
And sought again the highway where thieves and
jackals lurk.
And yet the spark of manhood still flamed within his
heart,
And still he saw the Baby, beyond the stable door;
And oftentimes at even, as crimson daytime died,
He knelt, a sorry figure, from all of life apart.
And, "Oh, if I could see Him--and feel His love
once more,
"If I could see Him smiling, I would not steal!" he
cried.