Ballad. The Miser and the Blind Man

W HEN of you I complain
For my tyrannous chain,
You must own that 'tis not without reason .
You 're the Sovereign I chuse;
But my oath you refuse,
And forbid me the honours of treason .

In proportion, I seem,
To my ardour extreme,
With Indifference cheapen'd and slighted;
'Tis as if to my cost,
When my eyes had been lost,
With my Gold I could still be delighted.
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