Digging the mountain of debt away.
Needy comrade, whose evil star,
Pallid-frowning, decrees you wrong,
Greatly neighboured, in truth, we are;
Hold your heart up and sing your song!
Lift your eyes to the book-shelf where,
Glorious-gilded, a shining show,
Every man in his mansion fair,
Dwell the princes of Poverty Row!