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Pay to vote
Poster: email@example.com (Harold Feld)
Greetings from Mar Yaakov:
Form is rhyme royal
Tell me, why should the size of wisdom's purse
Decide for us the worth of wisdom's word?
Why disparage love's labor with a curse
Because the lover tithe's not to the Board?
Shall service count for less than gold in hoard?
Alas that I should live this day to see!
That greed for gold should slay our chivalry.
When Arthur sought the counsel of his knights
Did he charge them for their seats at Table Round?
Or Charlamagne, ere going to his fights,
Demand his paladins give golden crowns?
Alas our age in which such greed abounds!
Are we in truth so petty that for gold
We sell the dearest truths we knew of old?
I fear I am a poor anachronist,
A fool who cannot hold with modern ways.
Regarding as the husk what folk call grist:
A "member" who first pays before he "plays."
Alas, I still look back on younger days
When service and good fellowship meant more
Then dollars paid into the Corp'rate store.
"Do not ask 'Why are these days not as good as the days of old?' This
question is not prompted by wisdom." -Eccl.
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