Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/218

184

To work as hoppled slaves of gold,

Which they in iron-bound coffers hold

Imprisoned; nay! by it are held

In bondage, all their joyance quelled;

Wretchedly live they as a toad

That writhes beneath the harrow’s goad.

What else should be the aim and end

Of gathering than the pelf to spend?

Alas! to this clear truth are blind

These graspers, though they needs behind

Must leave their riches when they’re dead,

To be once more out-scattered

By heirs and kindred, and small good

Will have of their vile niggardhood.

Moreover, ’tis in nowise sure

That through their own short day will dure

Their much-loved hoard, for who can say

What chance may snatch their wealth away?

Those men to Riches do great wrong

Who kill the uses that belong

To them by Nature’s gift. Distress

’Tis theirs to aid; their usefulness

Should not lie dead, for God hath sent

Earth’s wealth for mankind’s betterment.

But Riches do not love to be

Diverted from their destiny,

And signal vengeance take on those

Whose folly holds them hard and close.

They follow surely on their track

As sleuth-hounds, nor their vengeance slack