Classic Poem

Many a time your father gave me aid
When I was down—and now I'm down again!
You mustn't take it bad, nor be dismayed
To know that youngsters ought to help old men,
And 'tis their duty to do that: Amen!

I have no cows, no sheep, no boots, no hat!
The folk who gave me presents are all dead,
And all good luck died with them! Because of that
I won't pay what I owe you; but, instead,
I'll owe you till the dead rise from the dead.

You weave good shirts; and I weave, for my bread,
Good poetry—But you get paid at times!
The only rap I get is on my head:
But when it comes again that men like rhymes
—And pay for them—I'll pay you for your shirt!