Explore "The Crossing Sweeper" by Felix Leigh on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
He is weak and old, and he feels the cold,
But a nice clean path he keeps, / For passengers all, both great and small, / As the mud to each side he sweeps. / The people stare, in London Town, / At his turban rare, and his face so brown, / But the poor old Hindoo does not mind, / So long as a coin for him they find. / And he nods and smiles, as he sweeps away, / As if to the passer-by he'd say, -- / "Think of your shining boots and shoes, / And a copper to me you can't refuse. / For each penny I get I sweep the faster -- / Ah! thank you, Thank you, Kind young master!"