The rich are much like other men
Sans diadems and gold;
When stripped of their accoutrements,
Their glory turns to mold.
They walk the same as other men,
In slow or swinging stride;
They dawdle on the pathway
Or they hurry at your side.
Their speech is very much the same;
Each turn of phrase or stress
Is that employed by other men --
Expressive, more or less.
Their gestures are no different,
If you note their limbs and face,
Their hopes and joys and fears
Are elemental to the race.
They eat the common food of men
Or starve if famine comes;
They grow alarmed when bank accounts
Are seen as dwindling sums.
In politics they have their views
That veer to right or left;
They take their victories with a song
Or cry if they're bereft.
They're brave in face of danger
Or they're craven in defeat;
You'll see them flaunt the cannon's roar
Or scurry in retreat.
They have their doubts, alternately,
Or faith in heaven's rule;
Today they mingle with the wise,
Tomorrow, play the fool.
They're selfish in the things they keep,
Divine in what they give;
The measure of their destiny
Is how they toil and live.
The rich are much like other men
When heavy-handed fate
Has torn away the props that hold
Them numbered with the great.
(Copyright, 1940)
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