Classic Poem

ADDRESSED TO MISO

Could gold reanimate the dead,
Or ease awhile the aching head;
Could it relieve disease and pain,
Or give us our lost friends again;
Appease that worst of every smart,
The anguish of a wounded heart;
Then Miso , I thy creed would hold,
And bow before the God of Gold.

Instead of this ... nor to the muse,
Tho' gold thou lov'st, the truth refuse...
Do not its votaries clearly prove
It robs their souls of social love:
Roots from their breast the generous sigh,
And makes it pain to live or die?
If this be false, thy creed I'll hold,
And bow before the God of Gold.

Doth it not prompt the selfish trick,
And call what's meanness politic;
In prudence' name broach the snug lie,
And countenance duplicity?
And crush that tenderness of soul,
Which, like the needle to the pole,
Turns to the scene of each distress,
Pleas'd every evil to redress?
If this be false, thy creed I'll hold,
And bow before the God of Gold.

These its effects! but these are small;
The godlike virtues, one and all,
Wherever M AMMON'S sons appear,
Fly fast, and flying drop a tear;
Such tears as angels weep, when they
The worst of human crimes survey.
Thy creed then, Miso , I'll ne'er hold,
But curse thy god...thy God of Gold.