O MAN of morbid soul and small, Thou Dives, thing of wealth and hate! Think'st thou this narrow world is all? And if it be, thou'rt at the call, While here, of vice insatiate, O man of morbid soul and small! A vice that hath thee for a thrall Unmoved by love, accursed of fate — Think'st thou this narrow world is all? In letters hast thou naught withal — In greed alone thy mind is great; O man of morbid soul and small! Art cannot move thee from thy stall; Thy piety's commensurate; Think'st thou this narrow world is all? Alas, when Death shall lay his pall O'er thee, and it is all too late! O man of morbid soul and small, Think'st thou this narrow world is all? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A POST-IMPRESSIONIST SUSURRATION FOR THE FIRST OF NOVEMBER by HAYDEN CARRUTH AUGUST FIRST by HAYDEN CARRUTH IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES SUNSET by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON (A NEGRO SERENADE) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |