Good CitizenshipJames Edward Hand G. Allen, 1899 - 474 страници |
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able-bodied Board of Guardians capital character Charles Booth Christ Christian Social Union Church citizen citizenship civilisation claim classes common conscience County Council crime criminal democratic district divine duty economic effect Empire employer England evil exists fact factory force give Government Board growth Guardians House human ideal individual indoor relief industrial influence inspectors interest J. A. HOBSON justice labour land legislation living Local Government Board London London County Council means ment modern moral municipal nature obligation offence Officer organisation out-relief outdoor relief overcrowding Parish Councils Parliament pensions political poor Poor-Law possible practical present principle prison problem punishment question realise recognised regulations relief religion secure social reform society spirit theory things tion Trade Unionism true Vestry wages whole woman women workers workhouse workshops
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Страница 452 - And did the countenance divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here 30 Among these dark Satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold: Bring me my arrows of desire: Bring me my spear: O clouds unfold! Bring me my chariot of fire. I will not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand Till we have built Jerusalem In England's green and pleasant land.
Страница 451 - I wander thro' each charter'd street Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear: How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls; But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear.
Страница 447 - Go then ! and see them rising with the sun, Through a long course of daily toil to run ; See them beneath the dog-star's raging heat, When the knees tremble and the temples beat...
Страница 448 - O'er his white locks, and bury them in snow ; When rouz'd by rage and muttering in the morn, He mends the broken hedge with icy thorn.
Страница 317 - The church has many times been compared by Divines to the ark of which we read in the book of Genesis ; but never was the resemblance more perfect than during that evil time when she alone rode, amidst darkness and tempest, on the deluge beneath which all the great works of ancient power and wisdom lay entombed, bearing within her that feeble germ from which a second and more glorious civilization was to spring.
Страница 56 - too much ' cometh this monstrous and portentous dearth made by man, notwithstanding God doth send us plentifully the fruits of the earth, mercifully, contrary unto our deserts ; notwithstanding, too much, which these rich men have, causeth such dearth that poor men which live of their labour cannot with the sweat of their face have a living, all kind of victuals is so dear — pigs, geese, capons, chickens, eggs, etc.
Страница 451 - And the hapless soldier's sigh Runs in blood down palace walls. But most, through midnight streets I hear How the youthful harlot's curse Blasts the new-born infant's tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
Страница 437 - That in the opinion of this House it is the duty of the Government in all Government contracts to make provision against the...
Страница 452 - And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains green, And was the holy Lamb of God On England's pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills, And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my Bow of burning gold, Bring me my arrows of desire ; Bring me my spear : O clouds, unfold ! Bring me my Chariot of fire ! I will not cease from Mental Fight, Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem...
Страница 447 - ... Ah! hapless they who still remain; Who still remain to hear the ocean roar, Whose greedy waves devour the lessening shore; Till some fierce tide, with more imperious sway, Sweeps the low hut and all it holds away; When the sad tenant weeps from door to door, And begs a poor protection from the poor!