These are the unthrifty souls
Who watered dusty streets with wine;
Gathered pearls from Indian shoals
And cast them royally to swine;
Their most precious love who strowed
To be trampled by the crowd;
Freely broached their hearts’ red blood
To dye the garments of the proud;
Who have sung away their years
To soothe the perjurer and the thief;
Poured for the heartless, healing tears;
Fed the tyrant with their grief;
Paid the price they never owed;
Prayed to gods who claim no prayer;
Climbed the high encumbered road
Never asking why or where.