The Poetry Corner

Charity

By George Parsons Lathrop

I Unarmed she goeth; yet her hands Strike deeper awe than steel-caparison'd bands. No fatal hurt of foe she fears, - Veiled, as with mail, in mist of gentle tears. II 'Gainst her thou canst not bar the door: Like air she enters, where none dared before. Even to the rich she can forgive Their regal selfishness, - and let them live!