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On Wealth
THE PRAYER TO MAMMON
Cast birth into the nether Hell; let all
The useless tribe of talents farther fall; Throw virtue headlong from a rock and turn High nobleness into the fire to burn;
The heroic heart let some swift thunder rive, Our enemy that hinders us to live;
Wealth let us only keep; this one thing less, All those become as weeds and emptiness,
A MIRACLE
Behold a wonder mid the sons of men!
The man is undiminished he we knew, Unmaimed his organs and his senses keen
Even as of old, his actions nowise new, Voice, tone and words the same we heard before, The brain’s resistless march too as of yore; Only the flattering heat of wealth is gone, And lo! the whole man changed, his praises done.
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