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My Poor Relation
I have a poor relation, but
He never troubles me.
He's bowed with care; he wears an air
Of abject misery.
Yet, I am happy to relate
He never is importunate.
I meet him often in the street;
Sometimes he speaks with me;
I know, indeed, he is in need—
That's very plain to see.
Yet, though he is in want, I own
He never asks me for a loan.
His cuffs are frayed around the edge;
His hat's a sight to see;
His coat is torn; his pants are worn,
And baggy at the knee.
Yet, though his need is manifest,
He never brings me one request.
G
