Sonnet # 12 Pauper Tatis Pudor Fuga Poem by John A. Hancock

The shame of appearing poor
How it stains my soul each day
Judged not by God
But by the master of my pay
My soul is deemed unworthy, my heart
Tis said to be fill'd with lust and lies
The sin of sloth is thrust upon me
By their proud and unjust eyes
Yet I look to my Lord and Savior
From his love I gain the strenght I need
To hold my head up with honour
When I walk daily down the street
Forgiveness Lord I humbly pray to thee, to those
Whose eyes are blind that one day they may see