The Poetry of Social Distress
Abstract
Journal of Social Distress and the Homeless, Vol. 2, No. 1, 1993 1 2 Howard E. Gruber · HOLY THURSDAY Is this a holy thing to see In a rich and fruitful land, Babes reduc'd to misery, Fed with cold and usurous hand? Is that trembling cry a song? Can it be a song of joy? And so many children poor? It is a land of poverty! And their sun does never shine, And their fields are bleak and bare, And their ways are fill'd with thorns: It is eternal winter there. For where-e'er...