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<h2> THE HELPLESS </h2>
<p>Those poor, heartbroken wretches, doomed<br/>
To hear at night the clocks' hard tones;<br/>
They have no beds to warm their limbs,<br/>
But with those limbs must warm cold stones;<br/>
Those poor weak men, whose coughs and ailings<br/>
Force them to tear at iron railings.<br/>
<br/>
Those helpless men that starve, my pity;<br/>
Whose waking day is never done;<br/>
Who, save for their own shadows, are<br/>
Doomed night and day to walk alone:<br/>
They know no bright face but the sun's,<br/>
So cold and dark are human ones.<br/></p>
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