The fearful hosts of poverty and want
With industry’s strong sword, and wins the spoils,
The honourable spoils of raiment, food,
And kindly shelter to make glad all hearts
Around his hearth. No stately cenotaph
Of costly stones is to his honour reared,
But yet he owns a richer monument,
Built up of kindly thoughts within each mind,
That justly thinks, and loves the really great,
The honest and the true. How much of good,