University of Virginia Library

COMPENSATION

Yonder Lord cries “Compensation!”
Compensate! cry we.
And the compensated Nation
Owes—how much to thee?

69

Landlord's cousin, Thimblerigger,
He too hath old claims to press:
While we compensate the bigger,
Shall we starve the less?
Turpin, lord of Nimblehand,
Robbeth where he may;
Filcheth purses, stealeth land,
On the king's highway.
Hang the rascal for the purse;
But for the land he stole—
Vote him feathers on his hearse
And masses for his soul!
Thimblerigger's compensation,
When you stop his trade,
Should be more than mere starvation:—
Give the rogue a spade!
Contra—read “arrears of wages”:
Landlord! filch'd by thine and thee.
Who shall compensate thy ages?
Murder'd Industry!