Wednesday, September 17, 2025

Something Wrong Somewhere

by Edward Youl.

Originally published in Howitt's Journal (William Lovett) vol.1 #9 (27 Feb 1847).


I.

        Birds find their lodgings in the eaves;
                Rats have their homes in sewer and drain;
        Torpid, beneath the last year’s leaves,
                The unmolested snakes remain;
        The little dormouse in her cell,
                Dug deep in root of forest oak,
        Has slept since first the snow-flakes fell,—
                Secure,—and has not once awoke.
                        But Women and Men, i' the frozen street,
                                Are houseless--houseless every night;
                                And children, till the cold, grey light,
                        Trample the town with weary feet.

II.

        Deeper than frost, beneath the mould,
                Pierces its way the garden worm;
        The snail withdraws its horns from the cold;
                The ant in her nest keeps winter-term;
        Green-backed beetle, and slimy slug,
                And speckled eft, have quarters warm;
        The woodlouse under the bark is snug;
                The earwig takes no wintry harm.
                        But Women and Men, i' the frozen street,
                                Are houseless--houseless every night;
                                And children, till the cold, grey light,
                        Trample the town with weary feet.

III.

        Many-legged creatures, and those with wings,—
                Hum-drum hornet, and toiling bee,—
        All the rare and beautiful things
                Of insect-life, that on earth we see,—
        All the repulsive shapes that creep,—
                All the rejoicing things that fly,—
        Are laid in warm rest, fast asleep:
                None are exposed to the cutting sky.
                        But Women and Men, i' the frozen street,
                                Are houseless--houseless every night;
                                And children, till the cold, grey light,
                        Trample the town with weary feet.

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