Madmoments: or First Verseattempts By a Bornnatural. Addressed to the Lightheaded of Society at Large, by Henry Ellison |
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TO THE POOR. |
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 | Madmoments: or First Verseattempts |  |
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TO THE POOR.
Poor Man, lift up thy Brow, thy Wealth is great,Thy Heritage most kingly, tho' to thee
Its full Extent unknown! I would not be
A Monarch in his Pomp and Pride of State
If I might chuse 'twixt that and thy hard Fate!
Look up, look up, for art thou not as free
To call God Father then as well as he?
Yea! more so, and is thy Reward tho' late
Not certain? why into the Dust shouldst thou
Then look still down? thou hast like him a Brow
Whereon God's Image is impressed as clear:
Thou hast an Heart whose Beatings let thee know
Thine Immortality: tho' destined here
With Sweat to earn thy Bread yet not less near
To God for this, nay! nearer, for 'tis so
He as the Father to thee must appear:
'Tis to the Sufferer that He doth grow
All that He is, unutterably dear!
| Madmoments: or First Verseattempts | |