Why I Am Poor

Because, my friends I have a savage glee
In drinking to the dregs the draughts of life
And love to feel my spirit spreading free,
Stretching itself through every calm and strife
Or stealing through the secret souls of others;
Because, thank God! I'm made of simple stuff
And prize the friendship of my ragged brothers;
Because I love my liberty enough
To starve for it at times; because, forsooth,
I do not flout my manhood for a fee
Or care a straw for anything but Truth
And the warm pulse of human sympathy;
Because, in brief, I want no worldly wealth
But riches of the soul and buoyant health.