Facts

 

One night poor Jim had not a sou,

Mike had enough for his own bed;

" Take it: I'll walk the streets tonight,"

said Mike, "and you lie down instead."

 

So Mike walked out, but ne'er came back;

We know not whether he is drowned,

Or used his hands unlawfully;

Is sick, or in some prison bound.

 

Now Jim was dying fast, and he

Took to the workhouse his old bones;

To earn some water, bread and sleep,

They made that dying man break stones,

 

He swooned upon his heavy task:

They carried him to a black coach,

And tearless strangers took him out-

A corpse1 at the infirmary's porch.

 

Since Jesus came with mercy and love,

'Tis nineteen hundred years and five:

They made that dying man break stones,

In faith that Christ is still alive.