Possibilities
There are who fear the loosing of the knot
That ties our labouring brother to the oar.
Release him, say they, and he will not soar;
Full– fed and idle, he will fall and rot.
Give him his share—let sharp need scourge him not—
Let cruel spur of hunger prick no more,
But all have bounty of the rich world’s store—
And wreck and ruin is our certain lot!
But ease the toil– worn arm, the anxious brain,
And Reason, set more firmly on her throne,
Should guide more truly the enfranchised will.
Though want depart, divine desires remain;
Man, born of God, lives not by bread alone,
And realms of Knowledge are to conquer still.
