A proud pauper and a rich miser are contemptible beings.
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When I look upon seamen, men of science and philosophers, man is the wisest of all beings; when I look upon priests and prophets nothing is as contemptible as man.
There is not in the universe a more ridiculous, nor a more contemptible animal, than a proud clergyman.
quote by Henry Fielding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Miser and his 3rd Wife
1
The Old Miser
my husband is dying
and he makes me promise
I must put all his money in his coffin
when he dies
“O my legal third wife
the only one surviving -
you must put all my money
secretly in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring away all the money
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
2
Now, he’s dead
and I’ve arranged for his funeral
and while everyone’s busy
with all these preparations
I dutifully take all his money
from the hiding place
which he whispered to me
with his last breath
and he bit my ear and he snarled:
“Put all my money
in my coffin”
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you want to bring all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
3
So I take all his money
and bring it to the bank
and deposit it in my name
and make a cheque out for 10 million
and put the cheque below his head
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
You made me suffer all my life
and now in your death
you can take all the money away
Sure thing, sure thing
you Old Miser!
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The rich man who is stingy is the worst pauper.
For Years/ A Miser Of Every Minute
FOR YEARS/ A MISER OF EVERY MINUTE
For years
A miser of every minute
For my work.
And now near old age
I understand
All that time given to works
Never to be read,
And so
A seeming tranquility.
If all my time wasted
Why be a miser
Any longer?
And yet,
What have I done?
Can I somehow still
Do something?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Misfortune sits on a rich man's lap but grabs the throat of the pauper.
The miser will stubbornly live poorly in order to die rich.
The generous man grows rich in giving, the miser poor in taking.
Tibetan Prayer
'om mani padme hung,
om mani padme hung...'
may all beings be freed from suffering.
may all beings breathe as one.
may all beings live in peace.
may all beings learn to give.
may all beings walk in unity.
may all beings walk in forgiveness.
may all beings lay down their weapons.
may all beings be fed and have shelter.
may all beings know they are loved.
may all beings join hands.
may all beings live in awareness.
may all beings be freed from suffering.
'om mani padme hung,
om mani padme hung...'
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A miser grows rich by seeming poor; an extravagant man grows poor by seeming rich.
quote by William Shenstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yes A Pauper Knows A Pauper
Yes a pauper knows a pauper.
And what they do.
Living on the city streets.
In snow or heat.
And when the rain pours down,
These people don't scatter to scoot.
With attitude.
Yes a pauper knows a pauper.
And what they do.
Living on the city streets.
In snow or heat.
Yet a hope most know,
For them...
Is leaning on,
Mean scenes.
In desperation.
Mean scenes...
To demean.
Yet a hope most know,
For them...
Is leaning on,
Mean scenes.
In desperation.
Mean scenes...
To demean.
And the streets they live on for them,
Will never be...
Good friends,
In the end!
Yes a pauper knows a pauper.
And what they do.
Living on the city streets.
In snow or heat.
And the streets they live on for them,
Will never be...
Good friends,
In the end!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Oh, I wish I were a miser; being a miser must be so occupying.
quote by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im So Proud
Youre prettier than all the world
And Im so proud, Im so proud, Im so proud of you
cause youre only one fellows girl
Im so proud, Im so proud, Im so proud of you
Im so proud of being loved by you
And it would hurt, hurt to know,
If you ever were untrue, yeah
Sweeter than the taste of a cherry so sweet
Yeah, and Im so proud, Im so proud,
Im so proud of you
Compliments to you from all the people we meet
Yes babe and Im so proud, Im so proud,
Im so proud of you
Im so proud of being loved by you
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poor, Poor Country
Oh 'twas a poor country, in Autumn it was bare,
The only green was the cutting grass and the sheep found little there.
Oh, the thin wheat and the brown oats were never two foot high,
But down in the poor country no pauper was I.
My wealth it was the glow that lives forever in the young,
'Twas on the brown water, in the green leaves it hung.
The blue cranes fed their young all day - how far in a tall tree!
And the poor, poor country made no pauper of me.
I waded out to the swan's nest - at night I heard them sing,
I stood amazed at the Pelican, and crowned him for a king;
I saw the black duck in the reeds, and the spoonbill on the sky,
And in that poor country no pauper was I.
The mountain-ducks down in the dark made many a hollow sound,
I saw in sleep the Bunyip creep from the waters underground.
I found the plovers' island home, and they fought right valiantly,
Poor was the country, but it made no pauper of me.
My riches all went into dreams that never yet came home,
They touched upon the wild cherries and the slabs of honeycomb,
They were not of the desolate brood that men can sell or buy,
Down in that poor country no pauper was I.
* * * * *
The New Year came with heat and thirst and the little lakes were low,
The blue cranes were my nearest friends and I mourned to see them go;
I watched their wings so long until I only saw the sky,
Down in that poor country no pauper was I.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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While the miser is merely a capitalist gone mad, the capitalist is a rational miser.
The miser does not own the gold, it is the gold that owns the miser.
City Contrasts
A barefooted child on the crossing,
Sweeping the mud away,
A lady in silks and diamonds,
Proud of the vain display;
A beggar blind on the curbstone,
A rich man passing along;
A tiny child with a tambourine
Wailing out her life in song.
A pauper in lone hearse passing,
Hurried away to the tomb;
A train of carriages, music grand,
And the flutter of waving plume.
For the one there is never a mourner,
He cumbered the earth alway;
For the other the flags at half-mast droop,
And the city wears black today.
A soldier with one sleeve empty,
That sadly hangs by his side,
Another shuffling along the walk
In the flush of health and pride;
A cripple-girl slowly toiling
Through the vexed and crowded street,
And tearfully gazing at those who pass
With hearts as light as their feet.
A wreck of a woman flaunting,
As if proud of her very shame,
A purer sister whose modest cheeks
Would crimson e'en at the name;
A petty thief stealing in terror,
Afraid in your face to gaze,
And one who has robbed by the thousands,
Courting the sun's broad blaza.
The millionaire in his carriage,
The workman plodding along,
The humble follower of the right,
And the slave of the giant wrong;
The murderer seeking a refuge,
Looking ever wearily back,
And the sleuth hounds of the broken law
Following silently in his track.
The judge, freed now of the ermine,
Pompous of place and power,
And the shivering wretch his word will doom
To prison within an hour;
The miser clutching his pennies,
The spendthrift squandering gold,
The meeked-eyed Sister of Mercy,
And the woman brazen and bold.
The widow, in weeds of blackness,
Meets the bride at the church door--
The future for one holds nothing but tears,
But joy for the other in store.
A cradle jostles a coffin--
Orange-flowers, with honeyed breath,
Are wove by the self-same fingers
That but now made a cross for death.
Dives and Lazarus elbow
Each other whene'er they meet,
And the crumbs from the rich man's table
Feed the beggar upon the street.
And penury crowdeth plenty,
And sin stalks boldly abroad,
And the infidel holds his head proudly
As the child of the living God.
The bee in its ceaseless searching
Finds sweets in each flower fair,
And the noisome spider, creeping up,
Finds nothing but poison there.
And so life is made up of contrasts--
Rich and poor, coward and brave,
Virtue and vice, and all will find
Equality in the grave.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Sonnet: And If God Wants…
And if God wants, He can make one rich fast,
Or make a rich man pauper, over-night;
And if God wants, He can forgive sins past,
And give him Godliness, fervor, limelight.
And if God wants, He can destroy a town,
And every evil-minded man/ woman;
And if God wants, rebuild the town razed down,
And make an oppressed group, a blessed clan.
And if God wants, He can give one the mind,
To bear sorrow, however hard it strikes;
And if God wants, a peace of mind, he’ll find,
Despite his many life’s problems /dislikes.
And if God wants, a man can get great fame,
With His blessings and glorify his name.
6-17-2001
poem by John Celes
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Greek from Ancient Times
Antioch is proud of its splendid buildings,
its beautiful streets, the lovely countryside around it,
its teeming population;
proud too of its glorious kings, its artists
and sages, its very rich
yet prudent merchants. But far more
than all this, Antioch is proud to be a city
Greek from ancient times, related to Argos
through Ione, founded by Argive colonists
in honor of Inachos' daughter.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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