Were you not ashamed, fellow citizens, <br />When my estate was probated and everyone knew <br />How small a fortune I left?-- <br />You who hounded me in life, <br />To give, give, give to the churches, to the poor, <br />To the village!--me who had already given much. <br />And think you not I did not know <br />That the pipe-organ, which I gave to the church, <br />Played its christening songs when Deacon Rhodes, <br />Who broke and all but ruined me, <br />Worshipped for the first time after his acquittal?<br /><br />Edgar Lee Masters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nicholas-bindle/
