BY CHARLES MACKAY

CLEON hath a million acres,

Ne'er a one have I; Cleon dwelleth in a palace,

In a cottage, I; Cleon hath a dozen fortunes,

Not a penny, I; Yet the poorer of the twain is

Cleon,and not I.

Cleon, true, possesseth acres,

But the landscape, I; Half the charms to me it yieldeth,

Money cannot buy; Cleon harbors sloth and dullness,

Freshening vigor, I; He in velvet, I in fustian,

Richer man am I.

Cleon is a slave to grandeur,

Free as thought am I; Cleon fees a score of doctors,

Need of none have I; Wealth-surrounded, care-environed,

Cleon fears to die; Death may come, he'll find me ready,

Happier man am I.

Cleon sees no charm in nature,

In a daisy, I; Cleon hears no anthems ringing

In the sea and sky; Nature sings to me forever,

Earnest listener, I; State for state, with all attendants,

Who would change? - Not I.