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Poem	I made two fights for the people. First I left my party, bearing the gonfalon Of independence, for reform, and was defeated. Next I used my rebel strength To capture the standard of my old party -- And I captured it, but I was defeated. Discredited and discarded, misanthropical, I turned to the solace of gold And I used my remnant of power To fasten myself like a saprophyte Upon the putrescent carcass Of Thomas Rhodes' bankrupt bank, As assignee of the fund. Everyone now turned from me. My hair grew white, My purple lusts grew gray, Tobacco and whisky lost their savor And for years Death ignored me As he does a hog.
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