Poem by Anonymous

The State Pauper’s Soliloquy

When I was born, the child of three,
As jolly lads as you may see,
Who paid the expense of rearing me?
					The People.

Who bonfires made, and made a fuss,
Uproarious and riotous,
And wished my mother more of us?
					The People.

For several little slips of grace, 
That happened in my younger days, 
I wonder who the piper pays?
					The People.

And now that I've a lawful wife, 
Who makes us lead, with little strife, 
A pretty comfortable life?
					The People.

Who gives us our tax-free houses fine, 
And finds us wherewithal to dine, 
On turtle and on Bordeaux wine?
					The People.

Should phaetons be worse for wear, 
Or parks or temples want repair, 
Who suffers when we take the air?
					The People.

And when I’m dead, as die I must,
And these poor bones return to dust,
Ah! who will bury me? – I trust,
					The People.

1. Lord Strafford’s Meditations in the Tower
2. The Enchanted Island
3. Ettrick Banks
4. Sir Richard Whittington’s Advancement
5. The Cave of Pope

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