"Carry your suitcase, Sir?" he said. I turned away to hide a grin, For he was shorter by a head Than I and pitiably thin. I could have made a pair of him, So with my load I stoutly legged; But his tenacity was grim: "Please let me help you, sir," he begged.
I could not shake the fellow off, So let him shoulder my valise; He tottered with a racking cough That did not give him any peace. He lagged so limply in my wake I made him put the burden down, Saying: "A taxi I will take," And grimly gave him half-a-crown.
Poor devil! I am sure he had Not eaten anything that day; His eyes so hungrily were glad, Although his lips were ashen grey. He vanished in the callous crowd, Then when he was no more around, I lugged my bag and thought aloud: "I wish I'd given him a pound."
And strangely I felt sore ashamed, As if somehow I had lost face; And not only myself I blamed But all the blasted human race; And all this life of battle where The poor are beaten to their knees, And while the weak the burdens bear, Fat fools like me can stroll at ease.