"Do you suppose, O man—you who judge those who practice such things and yet do them yourself—that you will escape the judgment of God?"
- Roman 2:3
Thither's a fellow at the market,
A beggar of the soul
He keeps with him a coin
Of golden copper tone.
Worn from years of worketh
Just like his calloused hands
Weathered by the Devil,
And desperate dreams of man.
't roles between his fingers
A token of his nerve
And the children sing of stories
Of a Prince's vile curse
"The Beggar wast a Prince,
A handsome sir of court!
He did dress in drapes of velvet,
And did hath a lovely wife
But a beldam he did meet one morn
And yond mistress' filthy words doth bite!'
While the children sang of stories
The elders did leer in Spite!
"A Beggar is a Beggar
A miserable, pitiful plight."
They tore away the children
and spat as they wenteth by,
"Beggars are but Beggars
A filthy ugly sight.
They all belong in bedlam,
far from pious light."
YOU ARE READING
T.H. Ballard's Fairytales
FantasyA collection of cautionary tales inspired by the classics. For lovers of the Brothers Grimm.
