POOR, BUT A GENTLEMAN STILL.
Don't think by my dress that I've come here to beg,
Though the sharp pangs of hunger I feel;
The cup of misfortune I've drained to the dregs.
But I'm proud, though I'm shabby-genteel.
A time was When snobs who met me would say,
"Ha, Harry, dear boy, come and dine;"
But now when they meet they look t'other way-
My company now they decline.
Though poverty daily looks in at my door,
I am hungry, I am footsore And ill,
I can look the whole world in the face and say,
"If I'm poor, I'm a gentleman still."
Reverses in business brought me to a stand-
I found very Boon I should smash;
My friends advised me to fly from the land,
And seize upon all my loose cash;
But my reputation was dearer to me
Than all the bright gold in my till,
So I paid what I owed, And proudly I said,
"If I'm poor, I'm a gentleman still." -Chorus.
One evening last week, the other end of the town,
Whilst wandering sadly along,
I picked up a purse a lady had dropped-
The temptation to keep it was strong-
My pockets were empty, but firmly I said,
"She shall have her own," come what will;"
She looked at my dress as I gave it and said,
"If you're poor, you're a gentleman still." -Chorus.
Last evening I rescued a poor, homeless girl
Whom a swell was insulting; I found
My strength for the moment was something immense,
As I hurled the great brute to the ground.
He cried out, "You beggar, don't meddle with me,
Or very soon you'll get a pill;"
But I said, "Lay a hand on that girl And you'll And
If I'm poor, I'm a gentleman still." -Chorus.