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The rich all happy I was wont to hold,
Who never paid large usury for gold.
“Those sons of fortune never sigh, I said,
“Nor toss with anguish on their weary bed;
“But soft dissolving into balmy sleep,
“Indulge sweet slumbers, while the needy weep:”
But now the great and opulent, I see,
Lament their lots, and mourn as well as we.
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