Classic Poem

With thirst of Knowledge fir'd, I heedless fled.
My native fields; a hoary parent's care
Told me in vain what wrongs the needy bear,
And calling blessings on my youthful head
Adjur'd my stay. Alas! 'mid plenty fed,
I little fear'd Affliction and Despair,
And fondly deem'd the wretched suppliant's prayer
Was ever sacred. Late a little bread.
I ask'd, and thought the coldest heart would bleed
To hear the melting story of my woe;
But yon proud Miscreant dar'd my boldness blame:
Methinks these honest tears might better plead;
But 'tis the privilege of Want, to know
Reproach unmerited, and cruel shame.