Page:Poetical pieces on various subjects.pdf/3



THE Miser may in anguish rave,

and say I soon must die;

My goods, my wealth, I soon must leave

For time does quickly fly.

But ah! the world still has his heart,

and will not let it go;

He will not give the poor a part

to soften human woe.

Or, if a penny he gives one,

his mind feels that a cross;

Alas! he cries, my money's gone,

and what makes up my loss.

He ne'er considers, that on high,

there is a great reward