Classic Poem

If you will listen a while I will sing you a song
Of this glorious land of the free,
The difference I will show 'twixt the rich and the poor
In a trial by jury, you see;

If you have plenty of cash you can hold up your head
And walk from your own prison door;
But they will hang you up high if you have neither friend or gold,
Let the rich go, but hang up the poor.
In a trial of murder we have now,
And the rich ones get off slow but sure;
With their thousands to buy both the jury and the judge
You can bet they'll go back on the poor.

Let me speak of a man who is dead in his grave,
As good a man as ever was born.
Jim Fisk he was called, and his money he gave
To outcast, the poor and forlorn.
If a man was in trouble Jim Fisk would help him along
To drive the grim wolf from his door;
He strove to do right, though he might of done wrong,
But never went back on the poor.

Jim Fisk was a man who wore his heart in his sleeve;
No matter what people may say,
He done all his deeds, both the good and the bad,
In the broad open light of the day.
With his grand six-in-hand on the beach of Long Branch
He cut a big dash, to be sure;
But Chicago's great fire showed the world that Jim Fisk
With his wealth still remembered the poor.

When the telegram came of the homeless that night,
They were starving to death, slow but sure,
With his lightning express nobly minded Jim Fisk
Flew to feed all the hungry and poor.

Now what do you think of this trial of Stokes,
Who murdered this friend of the poor?
If such men get free is anyone safe
To step outside their own door?
Is there one law for rich, is there one law for the poor?
It seems so, at least so they say.
If they hang up the poor why oughtn't the rich
To be hung up the very same way?

Now don't show any favor to friend or to foe,
To prince or to beggar at your door,
But the millionaire you must hang up also;
But never go back on the poor.