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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37712" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>West London</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37712" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Crouched on the pavement, close by Belgrave Square<br>A tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied.<br>A babe was in her arms, and at her side<br>A girl; their clothes were rags, their feet were bare.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37712" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Some labouring men, whose work lay somewhere there,<br>Passed opposite; she touched her girl, who hied<br>Across, and begged and came back satisfied.<br>The rich she had let pass with frozen stare.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37712" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Thought I: "Above her state this spirit towers;<br>She will not ask of aliens, but of friends,<br>Of sharers in a common human fate.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=37712" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She turns from that cold succour, which attends<br>The unknown little from the unknowing great,<br>And points us to a better time than ours."</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Matthew+Arnold">Matthew Arnold</a></strong> from <em><a href="http://sources.citatepedia.com/from.php?a=Matthew+Arnold&d=Sonnets">Sonnets</a></em></div>

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