Classic Poem

Thou, Miser, seem'st most jealous of thy Gold,
Yet for Advantage wilt thou let it go;
Why then should'st thou thy brighter Wise with-hold,
Who wou'd the largest Int'rest yield, we know?

Since to encrease your Store is still your Trade,
Letting it out to Friends at common Use,
Why must your best Commodity lie dead,
And you, to make the best of it, refuse?

If Procuration-Money you demand,
I'll give it, let your Wife but be resign'd;
My wishing Love shall on no Premium stand,
If you'll consent, and I can make her kind.
And since by Fraud thou'st gotten my Estate,
In Me, by Fraud, it no Injustice were
Thus to return upon Thee thy own Cheat;
And get Thee, to th' Estate Thou'st got, an Heir.