The feast is spread, the revelers sit to dine
From golden plate and rare Venetian ware;
Soft velvets gleam and gold and jewels shine
By candlelight. Each bauble for the hair,
Each gaud, each gown, each chas'ed goblet might
In selling feed a town. The common sort
Are long abed; their toils begin ere night
Hast fled before the dawn. While nobles sport
With horse and hound, their lands are worked by hands
That ne're shall know the touch of gold, whose wealth
Is measured by a bit of brass, whose plans
And dreams are circumscribed by harvest's health.
How noble is the vaunted class that thrives
Devouring of the common people's lives!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment