The mean seem men only in form
We have never seen such a sham.
The base seem richer than the good
For no care enters their heart or head.
The base are like gods; for they too
As prompted by their desire do.
When the base meets a rake so vile
Him he will exceed, exult and smile
Fear forms the conduct of the low
Craving avails a bit below.
The base are like the beaten drum
Since other's secrets they proclaim.
The base their damp hand will not shake
But for fists clenched their jaws to break.
The good by soft words profits yield -
The cane-like base when crushed and killed.
Faults in others the mean will guess
On seeing how they eat and dress.
MEANNESS
