Broken Down

THE MUSIC SENT TO ANY ADDRESS, ON RECEIPT OF 30 CENTS, BY HENRY J. WEHMAN, 50 CHATHAM STREET, NEW YORK.

BROKEN DOWN

None
Once I’d money, plenty,
And friends, too, by the score;
Then fortune smiled upon me
And no one passed my door.
Now I’m poor and lonely,
And not worth half a crown,
No one seems to know me—
I’m completely broken down.

With an ample fortune,
I went it rather fast,
The pace was almost killing,
And I found it couldn’t last.
Too proud to put the curb on,
I thought myself high-bred,
And now, for want of “bread” at times,
I have to “fast” instead.—

The immortal Shakespeare
Says, “All the world’s a stage,”
And every man must “play his part,”
From childhood to old age;
And when I think of days gone by,
How I was made the tool
Of rogues and sharps, ’tis then I know
My part has been the “fool.”—

Friends could recognize me
When Poole he made my coat,
But when I had no “note to change,”
How soon they “changed their note!”
An object sad and needy,
I wander thro’ the town,
A living paradox am I:
“Hard up,” yet “Broken down.”

I wander thro’ the world,
And meet with many a frown;
The time to try your friends you’ll find
Is when you’re broken down.

Henry J. Wehman, Song Publisher, No. 50 Chatham Street, New York City.

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