Dear Poverty

So soon you have returned to me O, Poverty!
You are welcome: gone are my days of prosperity;
I can’t disown you and turn you , old friend:
Don’t you know poor men’s hearts are angelic kind?

I thought in fact my fate had turned when you left me;
I hardly knew my virtues too would soon quit me:
With riches never try me once again, my dear,
For precious more are virtues than much wealth, I fear.

(We regret omission of this poem in the previous issue. We apologise to the contributor of the poem)       
–Editor