 | Rhymes to be traded for bread |  |
FINAL POEMS OF THE ROAD
LAZARUS AND DIVES.
WRITTEN FOR THAT RARE CREATURE, A PREOCCUPIED HOST.I AM LAZARUS, POOR THEY SAY,
WAYSIDE DOGS ARE MINE FOR FRIENDS,
ON OUR SORES THE RAINS DESCENDS,
SCORN IS OURS THROUGHOUT THE DAY.
BREAD IS MINE, THE BITS THAT FALL.
FROM YOUR AMPLE TABLE, ALL.
CHANCE HAS SCATTERED FROM YOUR PLATE.
WELL CONTENT, I TAKE MY SHARE,
'TIS A SORT OF TACIT RIGHT.
NO MAN FOR MY CRUMB WILL FIGHT,
NO MAN DRIVES ME FROM THE STAIR.
DIVES, OF THE NOBLE HEART,
BY MISGIVING WORN AWAY:
WHETHER PLEASURES GO OR STAY
HOW YOU FUME AND BROOD AND START!
LAZARUS YOU NEVER SEE,
ALL THE LOAF OF LIFE YOU OWN,
MADE SO GOOD FOR YOU ALONE,
YET THIS CRUMB COMES DOWN TO ME.
| Rhymes to be traded for bread | |