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Contrasts
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I see the tall church steeples -
They reach so far, so far;
But the eyes of my heart see the world's great mart
Where the starving people are.
I hear the church bells ringing
Their chimes on the morning air;
But my soul's sad ear is hurt to hear
The poor man's cry of despair.
Thicker and thicker the churches,
Nearer and nearer the sky -
But alack for their creeds while the poor man's needs
Grow deeper as years roll by!
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