Shivering and Shaking Out in the Cold.
Gazing on mansions of splendor,
Filled with perfume and shining with gold,
A thought often strikes me, do great ones remember
Those that are shivering out in the cold?
Hungry, dejected, feet unprotected,
Houseless, homeless, sad to behold;
Eyes red with crying, care-worn and sighing,
Shivering and shaking out in the cold.
No one to soothe the sad heart of sorrow,
None to pity-plenty to scold;
None will ask if he lives to-morrow,
Shivering and shaking out in the cold.-Chorus.
What has he done to be so neglected?
Why do you thrust him away from your door?
Perhaps he was once most highly respected.
The answer is simply-because he was poor.-Chorus.
What is that dark-looking object before us?
A funeral, carried from the work-house, I'm told;
They're taking a poor wretch home to his friends,
They found him last night out in the cold.-Chorus.
Friends of the churchyard, none there will scorn him,
E'en from the best down to the worst;
He'll soon be forgotten, no one will mourn him,
Where he comingles his dust with the dust.-Chorus.
Sad scenes of sorrow each coming morrow,
Bring in its dull, stealthy pace day by day,
Heaping fresh troubles on man to his horror,
'Till death seals his doom and he passes away.-Chorus.