How quickly nature falls into revolt
When gold becomes her object!
For this the foolish overcareful fathers
Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care.
Their bones with industry.
For this they have engrossed and piled up
The cankered heaps of strange-achieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their sons with arts and martial exercises.
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Accursed thirst for gold! what dost thou not compel mortals to
do?
[Lat., Quid non mortalia pectora cogis,
read more
Accursed thirst for gold! what dost thou not compel mortals to
do?
[Lat., Quid non mortalia pectora cogis,
Auri sacra fames?]
Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not by its growth, but by washing away from it all that is read more
Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not by its growth, but by washing away from it all that is not gold.
Stronger than thunder's winged force
All-powerful gold can speed its course;
Through watchful guards its passage make,
read more
Stronger than thunder's winged force
All-powerful gold can speed its course;
Through watchful guards its passage make,
And loves through solid walls to break.
[Lat., Aurum per medios ire satellites
Et perrumpere amat saxa potentius
Ictu fulmineo.]
Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.
Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.
(Portia:) A quarrel ho! already! What's the matter?
(Gratiano:) About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
read more
(Portia:) A quarrel ho! already! What's the matter?
(Gratiano:) About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
That she did give me, whose posy was
For all the world like cutler's poetry
Upon a knife--'Love me, and leave me not.'
Gold! gold! gold! gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold!
Gold! gold! gold! gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold!
Gold is a vain and foolish fancy.
[Fr., L'or est une chimere.]
Gold is a vain and foolish fancy.
[Fr., L'or est une chimere.]
Truth comes to us from the past, then, like gold washed down from the mountains.
Truth comes to us from the past, then, like gold washed down from the mountains.
Commerce has set the mark of selfishness,
The signet of its all-enslaving power
Upon a shining ore, read more
Commerce has set the mark of selfishness,
The signet of its all-enslaving power
Upon a shining ore, and called it gold;
Before whose image bow the vulgar great,
The vainly rich, the miserable proud,
The mob of peasants, nobles, priests, and kings,
And with blind feelings reverence the power
That grinds them to the dust of misery.
But in the temple of their hireling hearts
Gold is a living god, and rules in scorn
All earthly things but virtue.
