In The Country

This life is sweetest; in this wood
I hear no children cry for food;
I see no woman, white with care;
No man, with muscled wasting here.

No doubt it is a selfish thing
To fly from human suffering;
No doubt he is a selfish man,
Who shuns poor creatures, sad and wan.

But 'tis a wretched life to face
Hunger in almost every place;
Cursed with a hand that's empty, when
The heart is full to help all men.

Can I admire the statue great,
When living men starve at its feet!
Can I admire the park's green tree,
A roof for homeless misery!

by William Henry Davies

Other poems of DAVIES (49)

Comments (1)

Davies is feeling as every poets feel, he writes ' No daubt it is selfish thing, to fly from human sufferings' I say, 'But some they never feel and never bother to feel so they continue in life as if no humans exists near.'