 | Poems by the late John Bethune |  |
THE WISH.
I would that wealth were mine!—
Not that I wish to shine
In pleasure's circles fine,
Where the gay
Their useless wealth comsume,
Amid luxury and fume,
Nor where faded beauties bloom
In decay.
Not that I wish to shine
In pleasure's circles fine,
Where the gay
Their useless wealth comsume,
Amid luxury and fume,
Nor where faded beauties bloom
In decay.
It is not that I would pore
On a still-increasing store,
Or with a miser's wish for more
Ever pant;
But that I would impart
Peace to each aching heart
Which feels the bitter smart
Of pale want;
On a still-increasing store,
Or with a miser's wish for more
Ever pant;
But that I would impart
Peace to each aching heart
Which feels the bitter smart
Of pale want;
That I the joy might taste
Of spreading forth the feast,
With the hungry for my guest,
And the poor;
That beneath my humble shed
The needy might be fed,
And the lame and blind be led
To my door.
Of spreading forth the feast,
With the hungry for my guest,
And the poor;
164
The needy might be fed,
And the lame and blind be led
To my door.
It is the purest bliss
Which the wealthy can possess,
To make man's sufferings less,
And behold
In th' lately streaming eye,
With gratitude grown dry,
Turn'd meekly to the sky:
The use of gold.
Which the wealthy can possess,
To make man's sufferings less,
And behold
In th' lately streaming eye,
With gratitude grown dry,
Turn'd meekly to the sky:
The use of gold.
| Poems by the late John Bethune | |