  A poor shabby boy; But an ambitious poet, And in most appealing way He’d love for the world to know it. For now he sits and dreams Of which he can’t depart, And deep in his soul lies That beautiful hidden art. God gives him the power And a clean mind to compose, He gathers beauties from an unseen garden, Where he dwells when his soul is reposed. He has a high standard in thought As the richest man of the day, And wears a smile, though destitute For this is just his way. |
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