PENURY

The birdcage cannot silence the song,
Nor prison bars shut out the light,
Nor these thorns hide the rose,
Not a crown of thorns.

Let wisdom grow in sorrows,
A breath of what is blessed.
Let laughter turn a thousand sorrows.
Who eats least, tastes the best.

Let them puppet our idol Emperors
With rites that ever wrong;
Pluck our feathers, disturb our roots,
That beggar naked truth.

For love is left when all has flown
From now and now till heaven
Till the earth, till earth and sown
Have grown full leaven.