Poverty
A BEGGAR to the graveyard hied
And there “Friend corpse, arise,” he cried;
“One moment lift my heavy weight
Of poverty; for I of late
Grow weary and desire instead
Your comfort; you are good and dead.”
The corpse was silent. He was sure
'Twas better to be dead than poor.
And there “Friend corpse, arise,” he cried;
“One moment lift my heavy weight
Of poverty; for I of late
Grow weary and desire instead
Your comfort; you are good and dead.”
The corpse was silent. He was sure
'Twas better to be dead than poor.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.