Volume 33 — GOLD.

Alas! my heart is sick when I behold The deep engrossing interest of wealth, How eagerly men sacrifice their health, Love, honor, fame and truth for sordid gold; Dealing in sin, and wrong, and tears, and strife, Their only aim and business in life To gain and heap together shining store;— Alchemists, mad as e'er were those of yore. Transmuting every thing to glittering dross, Wasting their energies o'er magic scrolls, Day-books and ledgers leaden, gain and loss— Casting the holiest feelings of their souls High hopes, and aspirations, and desires, Beneath their crucibles to feed th' accursed fires!