How rational to claim the pot of gold,
And boast of grandeur, triumphs built by one —
When linked to fetters formed in bonds of old;
By hedonists, so weak in will, undone.

How easy does the selfish life unfold;
When born without the want of wealth, they stand!
But when increased with interests they are sold,
They shrug, and cower at the master’s hand.

Illusion-shattered greatness falls at night,
And golden god reverts to parasite.