Explore "Beranger's "Ma Vocation"" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Misery is my lot, / Poverty and pain; / Ill was I begot, / Ill must I remain; / Yet the wretched days / One sweet comfort bring, / When God whispering says, / "Sing, O singer, sing!"
Chariots rumble by, / Splashing me with mud; / Insolence see I / Fawn to royal blood; / Solace have I then / From each galling sting / In that voice again, -- / "Sing, O singer, sing!"