DETERMINED TO BE RICH.

RISE up early, sit up late, Be thou unto Avarice sold; Watch thou well at Mammon's gate, Just to gain a little gold. Crush thy brother neath thy feet, Till each manly thought is flown; Hear not, though he loud entreat, Be thou deaf to every moan. Wield the lash, and hush the cry, Let thy conscience now be seared; Pile thy glittering gems on high, Till thy golden god is reared. Then before its sparkling shrine Bend the neck and bow the knee; Victor thou, all wealth is thine, Yet, what doth it profit thee?