Corn.... Riches.
Reading edition
Ceres, the goddess of Corn and harvest, was represented with a garland of ears of Corn on her head. The commemoration of the loss of her daughter Proserpine, was celebrated about the beginning of harvest; that of her search after her, at the time of sowing Corn. A whole straw has been made the emblem of union; and a broken straw, of rupture. The custom of breaking a straw, to express the rupture of a contract, may be traced back to an early period of French history, and may be said to have had a royal origin. When Charles the Simple, of France, was abandoned by his principal lords, they broke a straw to express that they would no longer acknowledge him as their king. Corn may be regarded as an appropriate emblem of wealth; since, wherever it grows, it leads us to infer plenty and comfort.
Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, Get riches first, get wealth. Milton.
Then let us get money, like bees lay up honey; We’ll build us new hives and store each cell; The sight of our treasure shall yield us great pleasure, We’ll count it, and chink it, and jingle it well. Dr. Franklin.
Much learning shows how little mortals know; Much wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy: At best, it babies us with endless toys, And keeps us children till we drop to dust. As monkeys at a mirror stand amazed, They fail to find what they so plainly see; Thus men, in shining riches, see the face Of happiness, nor know it as a shade; But gaze, and touch, and peep, and peep again, And wish, and wonder it is absent still. Young.
Oh, blessed lot To be possessed of wealth and of a heart So heavenly made that it refuses not Of its abundance freely to impart! MacKellar.
You are heir To lordships, mansions, forests, parks, and gems. You have three mighty manors in Castile; Two broad estates in Leon; two amidst The mulberry trees of Murcia, and huge chests Crammed full of ingots, dug by naked slaves, Who famished on coarse bread. Besides all these, There bloom plantations in the East, whose fruits Are pearls, and spice, and princely diamonds; And in Brazil, Pactolus floods, ne’er dumb, Whose waves all talk in gold! Barry Cornwall.