Of each recalling his peculiar boons, His charters and exemptions; and, perchance, Though he to no one give the fortitude And circumspection needful to preserve 130 His present blessings, and to husband up The respite of the season, he, at least, And 'tis no vulgar service, makes them felt. Yet further.--Many, I believe, there are Who live a life of virtuous decency, 135 Men who can hear the Decalogue and feel No self-reproach; who of the moral law Established in the land where they abide Are strict observers; and not negligent In acts of love to those with whom they dwell, [17] 140 Their kindred, and the children of their blood. Praise be to such, and to their slumbers peace! --But of the poor man ask, the abject poor; Go, and demand of him, if there be here In this cold abstinence from evil deeds, 145 And these inevitable charities, Wherewith to satisfy the human soul? No--man is dear to man; the poorest poor Long for some moments in a weary life When they can know and feel that they have been, 150 Themselves, the fathers and the dealers-out Of some small blessings; have been kind to such As needed kindness, for this single cause, That we have all of us one human heart. --Such pleasure is to one kind Being known, 155 My neighbour, when with punctual care, each week Duly as Friday comes, though pressed herself By her own wants, she from her store [18] of meal Takes one unsparing handful for the scrip Of this old Mendicant, and, from her door 160 Returning with exhilarated heart, Sits by her fire, and builds her hope in heaven.