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I
MET two men the other day, walking down the street, And one had money, so they say, but in his face showed deep The cares which business brings about, plants furrows here and there And weaves the silver's early trace, in hoary heads of hair. One had no money, if the palm may signalize one's fate; If calluses may tell the tale, I scarcely dare to state; Because it drinks too deep at times of want's most bitter cup And as the heart is good and strong, its fulness will well up. Wealth brought to one the sleepless nights, the other nights of rest, One sacrificed the charm of life, for what to him seemed best, The other plodded strangely on, with many a heavy sigh And nurtured well the growth of soul, for better, by-and-by One had dwarfed the budding soul, of sweetness, as 't was given And all the better instincts there, for which the great have striven ; Closed every avenue but wealth's; no other on the chart; All streams of happiness erased, and shrunk the throbbing heart. Wealth crowns with strange identity its subjects, small or great, And makes distinctions quite unbred, I'm doubly sad to state; Because all men are equal, beneath the sacred star Where character is wisely weighed, and proves the same at par. A Higher Hand, we fondly hope, may hasten on the time When all the prosy roads of life may blossom forth with rhyme, When all oppressed and sad at heart, may see a silver lining Through which our way is lighted up, though poor, our lamps be shining. |
