Classic Poem

O 't was not they through whom I breathed
That laid alone the spell;
Behold the people of our land
Live but to buy and sell.

To buy and sell—they call it life;
But I had gifts to give;
I said, “O let me give my gifts,
Thus only may I live.”

But I must sell my gift of gifts,
And I must buy again,
And fierce is traffic, fierce as war,
And numbers too its slain.

I had so much to give to life,
But when my gift was sold,
Came those who measured my heart's blood
Into their cups of gold.

They trade in life; we that would live
Fall Death's heirs in that strife.
O what is there they buy or build
So dear as would be—life?