Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Who is my Neighbour?

Who Is My Neighbour?
Thy neighbour? It is he whom thou
Hast power to aid and bless;
Whose aching heart and burning brow
Thy soothing hand may press.

Thy neighbour? 'Tis the fainting poor,
Whose eye with want is dim,
Whom hunger sends from door to door;—
Go thou and succour him.

Thy neighbour? 'Tis that weary man,
Whose years are at their brim,
Bent low with sickness, care, and pain;—
Go thou and succour him.

Thy neighbour? 'Tis the heart bereft
Of every earthly gem;
Widow and orphan, helpless left;—
Go thou and shelter them.

Thy neighbour? Yonder toiling slave,
Fettered in thought and limb;
Whose hopes are all beyond the grave!—
Go thou and ransom him.

Whene'er thou meet'st a human form
Less favoured than thine own,
Remember 'tis thy neighbour worm,
Thy brother or thy son.

Oh, pass not, pass not heedless by;
Perhaps thou canst redeem
The breaking heart from misery;—
Go share thy lot with him.