________________________________________________
Title: What Profits Me
Author: Bill o'th' Hoylus End [
More Titles by Bill o'th' Hoylus End]
What profits me tho' I sud be
The lord o' yonder castle gay;
Hev rooms in state to imitate
The princely splendour of the day
For what are all my carved doors,
My chandeliers or carpet floors,
No art could save me from the grave.
What profits me tho' I sud be
Decked i' costly costumes grand,
Like the Persian king o' kings,
Wi' diamond rings to deck my hand:
For what wor all my grand attire,
That fooils both envy and admire,
No gems could save me from the grave.
What profits me tho' I sud be
Thy worthy host, O millionaire,
Hev cent. for cent. for money lent;
My wealth increasing ivvery year.
For what wor all my wealth to me,
Compared to immortality,
Wealth could not save me from the grave.
What profits me tho' I sud be
Even the gert Persian Shah,
My subjects stand at my command,
Wi' fearful aspect and wi' awe;
For what wor a despotic rule,
Wi' all the world at my control,
All could not save me from the grave.
[The end]
Bill o'th' Hoylus End's poem: What Profits Me
________________________________________________
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
