“Half the Parish talks to us of self-denial,
      Of kindly duties lying at the door,
    And of One who says the Poor are always with us;
      But we can’t be always thinking of the Poor!

    “We are older, we are richer, we are wiser;
      Why should we be vexed and troubled in our ease? 
    Just because the children like the Vicar’s garden,
      With its faded grass and smoky London trees!

    “Still we feel sometimes a little self-convicted,
      When we hear the hard-worked kindly Clergy say
    That it helps them often in their weary labours,
      Just to see the children happy at their play!

    “Yet we think they try to make the thing too solemn,
      When they put aside our protests with the plea: 
    ’Whatsoe’er ye did to such as these, my brethren,
      To the least—­ye did it even unto Me.’”

    Thus the people murmured, but the children’s Angels
      Smiled rejoicing, and a richer blessing falls
    On the Church that made a shelter for the children
      Underneath the holy shadow of her walls.

CHRISTIAN BURKE.