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WHAT MAN HAD NOT RATHER BE POOR, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: What man in his wits had not rather be poor
Last Line: Let not even mine enemy die.


WHAT man in his wits had not rather be poor,
Than for lucre his freedom to give,
Ever busy the means of his life to secure,
And so ever neglecting to live?

Environed from morning to night in a crowd,
Not a moment unbent, or alone;
Constrained to be abject, though never so proud,
And so every one's call but his own.

Still repining, and longing for quiet, each hour,
Yet studiously flying it still;
With the means of enjoying his wish, in his power;
But accursed with his wanting the will.

For a year must be past, or a day must be come,
Before he has leisure to rest;
He must add to his store this or that pretty sum,
And then he will have time to be blessed.

But his gains more bewitching the more they increase,
Only swell the desire of his eye:
Such a wretch, let mine enemy live if he please,
Let not even mine enemy die.





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