| Show THE SONG FOR BREAD la in the marketplace market place in the early morn A aplet post stood and he be sang for bread fiobo passed him by with a glance of scorn and some who pitted pitied his look forlorn flung him aim a coin instead vu the king came out ont for his morning ride to ril golden laces jaces and velvet dress and the threadbare poet was pushed aside and he crept away to the wood and died gitig hi lyre to his bis bosom pressed his cold coid dead hand in the brook afloat they found him there on the sod and they buried him deep in his shabby coat with never a prayer or a funeral note to waft his soul to god the wood is in felled failed and the the king is dead the steps of his palace are green wild mold but the song that the post poet sung for broad bread has bound the world with a silver thread and girdled it round with gold MINNIE IRVING |
