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SONG FOR THE FIRST OF THE MONTH, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Money cannot fill our needs
Last Line: Laugh the landlord off with that!
Alternate Author Name(s): Rothschild, Dorothy
Subject(s): Money

Money cannot fill our needs,
Bags of gold have little worth;
Thoughtful ways and kindly deeds
Make a heaven here on earth.
Riches do not always score,
Loving words are better far.
Just one helpful act is more
Than a gaudy motor car.
Happy thoughts contentment bring
Crabbed millionaires can't know;
Money doesn't mean a thing, --
Try to tell the butcher so!

None can stretch his life an hour
Though he offer boundless wealth;
Money, spite of all its power,
Cannot purchase ruddy health.
Simple pleasures are the best,
Riches bring but misery,
Homely hearts are happiest,
Joy laughs loud at poverty.
Pity those in Mammon's thrall,
Poor, misguided souls are they.
Money's nothing, after all, --
Make the grocer think that way!

Greatest minds the world has known
All agree that gold is dross.
Man can't live by wealth alone;
Bank books are a total loss.
Banish strife and greed and gloom,
Throw off money's harsh control,
Sow good deeds, and watch them bloom, --
Hyacinths, to feed the soul.
Hoard no pelf, lest moth and rust
Do their work and leave you flat.
Money? It is less than dust, --
Laugh the landlord off with that!

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