Better thou wert dead before me,—better, better that I stood,
Looking on thy murdered body, like the injured Daniel Good!
Better thou and I were lying, cold and timber-stiff and dead,
With a pan of burning charcoal underneath our nuptial bed!
Cursed be the Bank of England's notes, that tempt the soul to sin!
Cursed be the wants of acres,—doubly cursed the want of tin!
Cursed be the marriage-contract, that enslaved thy soul to greed!
Cursed be the sallow lawyer that prepared and drew the deed!
Cursed be his foul apprentice, who the loathsome fees did earn!
Cursed be the clerk and parson,—cursed be the whole concern!