Friend, you have wealth and power, br Men go and come at your call, br Yours are the whims of the hour— br What have you done with it all? br I am only a poet br Fighting a bitter fight, br Fate will not even grant me br Leisure in which to write. br br You said as your thin lips curled: br “Money is better than bays.” br Battered and bruised by the world! br I still have my golden days.