Broken for Thee, for Thee . . .
My son, my little son,
Who leapt and laughed on my knee.



POEM: "INASMUCH AS YE DID IT NOT . . . "



If Jesus came to London,
Came to London to-day,
He would not go to the West End,
He would come down our way;
He'd talk with the children dancing
To the organ out in the street,
And say he was their big Brother,
And give them something to eat.

He wouldn't go to the mansions
Where the charitable live;
He'd come to the tenement houses
Where we ain't got nothing to give.
He'd come so kind and so homely,
And treat us to beer and bread,
And tell us how we ought to behave;
And we'd try to mind what He said.

In the warm bright West End churches
They sing and preach and pray,