Parallels For The Pious
'HE holds a pistol to my head,
Swearing he will shoot me dead,
If he have not my purse instead,
The robber!'
'He, with the lash of wealth and power,
Flogs out my heart and flings the dower,
The sneering pittance of his hour,
The robber!'
'He shakes his serpent tongue that lies,
Wins trust for poisoned sophistries,
And stabs me in the dark, and flies,
The assassin!'
'He pits me in the dreadful fight
Against my fellow. Then he quite
Strips both his victims in the night,
The assassin!'
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Added by Poetry Lover
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