In the Country by William Henry Davies

In the Country

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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! William Henry Davies