Classic Poem

( SUGGESTED BY DORÉ'S " SPANISH BEGGARS. " )

Through the widest street in Cadiz
Dona Inez rode one day,
Clad in costly silk and laces,
In a group of friends as gay.

Near the portals of a convent —
From the Moors just lately won —
Sat a crowd of dark-skinned beggars
Basking in the pleasant sun;
One an old man — he a Christian
Blind to all the outward light —
Told his black beads, praying softly
For all poor souls still in night.

" I am but a Moorish beggar, "
Said a woman with a child;
" I am but a Moorish beggar,
And the Moors are fierce and wild.
You may talk of Christian goodness —
Christian Faith and Charity,
But I'll never be a Christian
'Till some proof of these I see.
Christians are as proud and haughty
As the proudest Moor of all;
And they hate the men that hate them
With a hate like bitter gall. "

" You judge rashly, O my sister,
In the words you speak to me. "
" I would be a Christian, blind man:
Show me Christian charity!

" Lo! here comes proud Dona Inez,
Very rich and fair to see;
I am but a Moorish beggar,
Will the lady come to me?
No! she will not, for she hateth
All the children of the Moor.
If she come, I tell you, blind man,
I will kneel, and Christ adore! "

Passing was the Lady Inez
When the dark group met her eye,
And she leant from out her litter
Smiling on them tenderly.
" They are poor, they are God's children, "
Said a voice within her soul,
And she lightly from her litter
Stepped to give the beggars dole.

Sneered, and laughed, and laughing, wondered
All the other ladies gay;
And the Lady Inez knew not
She had saved a soul that day.