Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 2.pdf/128

Of that great wealth they once possessed.
Scatterlings fall to Poverty But know thou, even more distressed
Are they the oftener they return
New store of bitter woe to earn,
Till that they shun my gaze for shame
And, taking on their heads the blame,
Cast off their lives of misery.
I flee from those who flee from me.
I warn you well, ere yet you pass
This barrier, you will cry, alas!10600
When you return, for never Bear,
Hand-led, and muzzle doomed to wear,
Was wretcheder than you will be
At going hence. If Poverty
Cast you on bed of hay or straw,
You there mid sighs and groans must draw
Your breath till you of hunger die.

Hunger, who unto Poverty
Was chamberer, by her bitterness
Reduced her dame to dire distress,10610
And then corrupted her, till she
Became the nurse of Knavery;
From her own breast with milk she fed;
The varlet, who no other bread
E’er tasted. And if ye desire
To hear of her, this caitiff dire,
Fierce Hunger, dwells on stone-strewn ground,
Where nought of herb or grain is found,
A land which north of Scotland lies,
Whose frozen atmosphere outvies10620
The marble’s coldness. Hunger, who
Wones where no tree or grain e’er grew.