![]() | Original poems on several subjects | ![]() |
II.
[Reader, survey this monumental pile]
Reader, survey this monumental pile,Nor drop a tear of pity all the while.
It rose, enjoin'd by will, at mighty cost,
For dead, by it, the Miser nothing lost.
He died, a victim at the shrine of pelf,
Because, alive, he never lov'd himself.
He died, like him, Fate ne'er could debt forgive,
He died, because he knew not how to live.
![]() | Original poems on several subjects | ![]() |