A Millionaire
No, not from tuning-forks of gold Take I my key for singing; From Upper Seats no order bold Can set my music ringing; But groans the slave through sense of wrong, And naught my voice can smother; As flame leaps up, so leaps my song For my oppressed brother. And thus the end comes swift and sure... Thus life itself must leave me; For what can these my brothers poor In compensation give me, Save tears for ev'ry tear and sigh?-- (For they are rich in anguish). A millionaire of tears am I, And mid my millions languish.
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"No, not from tuning-forks of gold..."
Morris Rosenfeld's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "A Millionaire"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...