801 <br /> <br />I play at Riches—to appease <br />The Clamoring for Gold— <br />It kept me from a Thief, I think, <br />For often, overbold <br /> <br />With Want, and Opportunity— <br />I could have done a Sin <br />And been Myself that easy Thing <br />An independent Man— <br /> <br />But often as my lot displays <br />Too hungry to be borne <br />I deem Myself what I would be— <br />And novel Comforting <br /> <br />My Poverty and I derive— <br />We question if the Man— <br />Who own—Esteem the Opulence— <br />As We—Who never Can— <br /> <br />Should ever these exploring Hands <br />Chance Sovereign on a Mine— <br />Or in the long—uneven term <br />To win, become their turn— <br /> <br />How fitter they will be—for Want— <br />Enlightening so well— <br />I know not which, Desire, or Grant— <br />Be wholly beautiful—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-play-at-riches-to-appease/
