And What Have You To Say

I mind the days when ladies fair     Helped on my overcoat,     And tucked the silken handkerchief     About my precious throat;     They used to see the poets soul     In every song I wrote.     They pleaded hard, but I had work     To do, and could not stay     I used to work the whole night through,     And what have you to say?     Twas clever, handsome woman then,     And I their rising star;     I could not see they worshipped me,     Because I saw too far.     (Tis well for one or two, I think,     That things are as they are.)     (I used to write for writings sake,     I used to write till day,     I loved my prose and poetry,     And what have you to say?)     I guess if one should meet me now     That she would gasp to think,     She ever knew a thing like me,     As down the street I slink,     And trembling cadge from some old pal     The tray-bit for a drink.     I used to drink with gentlemen     To pass an hour away:     I drink long beers in common bars,     And what have you to say?     But often, in the darkest night     (And tis a wondrous thing),     When others see the devils dance,     I hear the angels sing,     And round the drunkards lonely bed     Heavens nurses whispering.     I wrote for Truth and Right alone,     I wrote from night till day;     Ill find a drunken pauper grave,     And what have you to say?     Good night!     Good day!     My noble friends,     And what have you to say?