Riches

Friend, you have wealth and power,

Men go and come at your call,

Yours are the whims of the hour—What have you done with it all?

I am only a

Fighting a bitter fight,

Fate will not even grant

Leisure in which to write.

You said as your thin lips curled:“Money is better than bays.”Battered and bruised by the world!

I still have my golden days.

You have lost the power to enjoy,

You tire of each plaything new,

Mine is the heart of a boy;

Friend,

I am richer than you!