THE POOR by David Bates

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 5, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 18.

THE POOR.

By David Bates

["Give me neither poverty nor riches." Proverbs.]

TELL not the poor that poverty knows A bliss that wealth will ne'er disclose, That their sleep is sound and their bread is sweet, Because of their toil through cold and heat, For poverty robs, as well as wealth, The cheek of its bloom, and the pulse of its health; They both are evils for man to bear, But poverty has the greater share.

With the comforts wealth may now obtain, The winter tempest may beat in vain; But how does it tell on the half-clad forms Exposed to the chilling winter storms, Or crowded together, cheerless and cold, In a rude dwelling, open and old, That rattles and creaks as the cold winds blow And sift through the chinks the drifting snow?

O ye who feast, till your senses pall, On the blessing Heaven designed for all, To be happy, learn of your hoarded store You need much less, and the poor need more, Ye brood o'er the wealth, oppressed and sad, That should make your hearts and thousands glad, And forget that you cannot be happy alone; 'Tis the bliss of others that makes our own. —David Bates.