Pity

Album cover art for "Pity" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Non-Music, Poetry (Literature)

Pity

0 Plays

View ArtistView Album

Lyrics

Sweet Mercy! how my very heart has bled        &nbspTo see thee, poor Old Man! and thy grey hairs        &nbspHoar with the snowy blast: while no one cares To clothe thy shrivell'd limbs and palsied head. My Father! throw away this tatter'd vest        &nbspThat mocks thy shivering! take my garment—use        &nbspA young man's arm! I'll melt these frozen dews That hang from thy white beard and numb thy breast. My Sara too shall tend thee, like a child:        &nbspAnd thou shalt talk, in our fireside's recess,        &nbspOf purple Pride, that scowls on Wretchedness— He did not so, the Galilaean mild,        &nbspWho met the Lazars turn'd from rich men's doors        &nbspAnd call'd them Friends, and heal'd their noisome sores!

Rate this song

Rate this song

0/5.0 - 0 Ratings

5
0.0% (0)
4
0.0% (0)
3
0.0% (0)
2
0.0% (0)
1
0.0% (0)

Loading comments...

Credits

Writers
  • Samuel Taylor Coleridge