Poverty

I hate this grinding poverty
To toil, and pinch, and borrow
And be for ever haunted by
The spectre of to-morrow

It breaks the strong heart of a man
It crushes out his spirit
Do what he will, do what he can
However high his merit!

I hate the praise that Want has got
From preacher and from poet
The cant of those who know it not
To blind the men who know it

The greatest curse since man had birth
An everlasting terror
The cause of half the crime on earth
The cause of half the error

The greatest curse since man had birth
An everlasting terror
The cause of half the crime on earth
The cause of half the error



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