YES, you were loved, Sosicrates, when rich; but now in her Love's dead: the drug of poverty's to blame; She called you 'dear Adonis' once; she found you very myrrh, And now she dares to ask you -- 'what's your name, And whence you come and where you live?' O don't you know, good Sir, That 'penniless' and 'loveless' are the same? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE IN TWILIGHT by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET TRANSLUCENT FINGERS by MALCOLM COWLEY THE GIANTS OF HISTORY by JAMES GALVIN UTOPIA by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: THE JURY DELIBERATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |