Rising Above Penury

Thy bread thee eat in mine presence, Yet offer none that I may feed, O pauper, as I, thine heart benefits none, Thou hast been bitter towards me. Dost not thence hold penance within, That I giveth to thee poor rehearse, And care naught of thy thunderous dread, For I totter forth thro' mine sway. Hear me! O gracious one; hear me, I am dying, of hunger true, From earth I wouldst be gone if thy worth is lost, Unto heavens glory I beg... I implore thee throw voice to front, To mien of burning sunken eyes, With poorest heart and intense despair, O'er which treacherous strains are felt. Thy light I sought in hearts deplore, Whence thee dwelt on evil affairs, But what yields there in this hideous madness? Hear me! O gracious one; hear me. Whereof the dreaming wilt be gone, Thy mind thus shalt be indigent, And abandoned of its guardian spirit, Mere pauper as I then must rise. Ceasing mine despair where I can, A promise none should deny me, For highest pride the road forth is paved, Whither thy star voice shalt be heard.