While I am clothed from head to feet
And covered from the cold.
While honest Paupers scarce can tell
Where they may lay their head,
I have a warm and well-aired cell,
With bath-room, gas, and bed.
While Paupers live on workhouse fare,
A grudged and scanty meal,
My table’s spread with bread and beer,
And beef, or pork, or veal.