Classic Poem

Oh , I am poor, and very poor!
But why should that distress me
Since Hope, through all my poverty,
So often comes to bless me?
If I have not the joys of wealth,
Neither have I its troubles,
And all its outward shows I deem
But empty, idle bubbles.

A full purse and an empty heart
Quite often go together;
What signifies our fields' increase,
If our affections wither?
I never was sOhard beset
As to forget the features
Of Justice, Mercy, and the rights
Of my poor fellow-creatures.

There is no station in this life
That is from ills exempted;
Virtue would be an easy thing
If we were never tempted.
Then why should I afflict myself
About mere worldly riches,
If I've a heart that's free from care,
And ne'er with envy itches?

The blue vault's hanging o'er my head,
Green mother-earth is under;
Above, beneath, on ev'ry side,
A mystic world of wonder.
Have I not in this threadbare coat,
And in this lowly station,
Caught tones of rapture trembling from
The harp of God's creation?

Can gold assist me to divine
The actual from the seeming,
Or from each mighty symbol wrest
Its everlasting meaning?
No; but for me the mighty dead
Unfold their living pages,
And I'm permitted to commune
With prophets, bards, and sages.

Yes, they, the really truly great,
Kings, potentates, excelling —
Without the pride and pomp of state —
Come to my lonely dwelling;
And their society has been,
'Mid sorrow and privation,
A joy which took away the sting
From woe and tribulation.

Then let us with a thankful heart
Accept what God has given,
And with the cank'ring love of gold
Ne'er may our hearts be riven;
And let us try to love our God
And our poor fellow-mortals:
Such is the wealth acceptable
At highest heaven's portals.