Help a lame-dog over a stile

Poor and needy, sick and seedy, I've met many a man
Who was once wealthy, strong and healthy, in this world began; 
Worn and weary, sad and dreary, now he chugs along, 
Never sighing, always trying, still all things go wrong

If you meet him, kindly greet him, 
Shake his hand and smile, 
Do not sneer him, try to cheer him, 
Help the lame-dog o'er the style.

Wife and family, quietly calmly, live in doubt and dread
Children crying, almost dying still, they can't get bread, 
Never heeding, all their pleading, people pass them by,
Nothing sparing, little caring if they all should die.

The husband struggles with his troubles, madly bravely on, 
Though cruel fortunes with him sporting, his hopes are not all gone, Friends they shun him, harshly spurn him, cruelly pass him, 
He's below them, they don't know him now because he's poor.

So if you meet him, kindly greet him, shake him by the hand 
Don't grieve him but relieve him every way you can, 
Just remember cold December soon will pass away, 
Storm and showers - will change to flowers with him t'will soon be May