I play at Riches to appease

I play at Riches to appease
The Clamoring for Gold
It kept me from a Thief, I think,
For often, overbold

With Want, and Opportunity
I could have done a Sin
And been Myself that easy Thing
An independent Man

But often as my lot displays
Too hungry to be borne
I deem Myself what I would be
And novel Comforting

My Poverty and I derive
We question if the Man
Who own Esteem the Opulence
As We Who never Can

Should ever these exploring Hands
Chance Sovereign on a Mine
Or in the long uneven term
To win, become their turn

How fitter they will be for Want
Enlightening so well
I know not which, Desire, or Grant
Be wholly beautiful

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I play at Riches to appease