Charles Ives — West London

Crouch'd on the pavement, close by Belgrave Square A tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied A babe was in her arms, and at her side A girl; their clothes were rags, their feet were bare Some labouring men, whose work lay somewhere there Pass'd opposite; She touch'd her girl, who hied Across, and begg'd and came back satisfied The rich she had let pass with a frozen stare Thought I: Above her state this spirit towers; She will not ask of Aliens, but of friends Of sharers in a common human fate She turns from the cold succour, which attends The unknown little from the unknowing great And points us to a better time than ours