Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, RICHES, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT

Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

RICHES, by                
First Line: O had I but ten thousand pounds a year!
Last Line: Is erning, thine doth only make thee spend.
Subject(s): God; Greed; Temptation; Wealth; Avarice; Cupidity; Riches; Fortunes

OHAD I but ten thousand pounds a year!
Fool, thou hast more,
Had'st thou that Wish, thy Wealth would make thee swear
That thou wert poor;
And so thou art not now, who hast
Enough to spend: wouldst have enough to waste?


Alas thou canst not; had thou all the Ore
Both Indies breed
Twould quite starve Prodagalitie; No store
Knows how to feed
The gulf of that strange Monster, whose
Vast stomach by abundance greater grows.


My Lord, with his ten thousand pounds a year
Doth cleerly want
Full twice ten thousand Things which thou canst spare:
His means is scant,
But ample thine, for 'tis confest
That he the richest is, who needeth least.


Besides, thou knowest not the charge of such
A large estate:
'Twill spend thee all thy Rest, & cost so much
Of Quiet, that
No honest Beggar thou wilt finde
So needy in Content, as thy poor Minde.


Thou must be put to finde so many Men
And Horses for
The service of that proud Estate; and then
Maintain the Warr
At thine own charge; that Warr whereby
Thou must defend & keep thy Credit high.


Selfcheated Slave, the more thy Servants are
The more hast thou
Thyself to serve: less costly is the care
Which they bestow
Than thine; their Services sure end
Is erning, thine doth only make thee spend.

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