O POVERTY! though from thy haggard eye, <br />Thy cheerless mein, of every charm bereft, <br />Thy brow, that hope's last traces long have left, <br />Vain Fortune's feeble sons with terror fly; <br />Thy rugged paths with pleasure I attend; -- <br />For Fancy, that with fairest dreams can bless; <br />And Patience, in the Pall of Wretchedness, <br />Sad-smiling, as the ruthless storms descend; <br />And Piety, forgiving every wrong, <br />And meek Content, whose griefs no more rebel; <br />And Genius, warbling sweet her saddest song; <br />And Pity, list'ning to the poor man's knell, <br />Long banish'd from the world's insulting throng; <br />With Thee, and loveliest Melancholy, dwell.<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ix-o-poverty-though-from-thy-haggard-eye/
