The rich man has his motor-car, br His country and his town estate. br He smokes a fifty-cent cigar br And jeers at Fate. br br He frivols through the livelong day, br He knows not Poverty, her pinch. br His lot seems light, his heart seems gay; br He has a cinch. br br Yet though my lamp burns low and dim, br Though I must slave for livelihood— br Think you that I would change with him? br You bet I would!br br Franklin P.