by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I see the tall church steeples,
They reach so far, so far,
But the eyes of my heart see the world's great mart,
Where the starving people are.
I hear the church bells ringing
Their chimes on the morning air;
But my soul's sad ear is hurt to hear
The poor man's cry of despair.
Thicker and thicker the churches,
Nearer and nearer the sky-
But alack for their creeds while the poor man's needs
Grow deeper as years roll by.

Last updated January 14, 2019