You have outrun your fortune; I blame you not, that you would be a beggar; Each to his taste! But I do charge you, sir, That, being beggar'd, you would coin false moneys Out of that crucible call'd DEBT. To live On means not yours; be brave in silks and laces, Gallant in steeds, splendid in banquets; all Not @3yours@1, ungiven, uninherited, unpaid for; @3This@1 is to be a trickster, and to filch Men's art and labour which to them is wealth, Life, daily bread; quitting all scores with, "Friend, You're troublesome!" Why this, forgive me, Is what, when done with a less dainty grace, Plain folks call "@3Theft!@1" You own eight thousand pistoles, Minus one crown, two liards! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HEROD'S LAMENT FOR MARIAMNE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON IN THE HOLY NATIVITY [OF OUR LORD GOD]; AS SUNG BY SHEPHERDS by RICHARD CRASHAW EPIGRAM: HERO AND LEANDER by JOHN DONNE SONG [WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1732] by GEORGE LYTTELTON THE FROGS: THE RIVAL POETS by ARISTOPHANES A LEGEND OF MINNESOTA by LILLIAN ATCHERSON HAREBELLS by ANNE MILLAY BREMER |