Let not young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the world's one crime its babes grow dull,
Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.
Not that they starve; but starve so dreamlessly,
Not that they sow, but that they seldom reap,
Not that they serve, but have no gods to serve,
The world has many hard realities: Sickness, injury, loss, death. But these are just part of living, and are acceptable to the author, except for one  aspect of living that he considers an actual crime: That people born unto the world can lose their sense of wonder, their sense of newness, the ability to perceive their unique place in the world. For many, that fades into the routine of simple routine, of working until both body and mind are worn down and dull. 
 The author’s use of the word ‘poor’ here is two-fold in meaning: Literally, it refers to people who are economically poor and forced to live lives filled with hard work, hunger, and limited possibilities. He’s also using it in a sympathetic sense, meaning the unfortunate people who aren’t in conditions that allow them to flourish. 
 He compares the ‘poor’ to ox – working farm animals who stare flatly ahead with no life in their gaze. 

The Leaden Eyed