Eloge de la richesse.

Wealth, that your discontented souls,
Not without cause, disdain,
Is good for something if it bring
No grandeur in its train
Friend cobbler, go carouse; thy Craesus
Should not, in common fairness, fleece us
Of all we can obtain.
I, for my part, would riches share;
For showers of gold I'll make my prayer:
Yes, yes, of gold
Let me get hold —
I'll undertake its care!

I've learned on Poverty to smile;
Envy, I know it not:
Need I be dull, because in life
I find a greener spot?
Must roomy coach, good horses, books,
Pictures, house, garden, be but crooks
In my amended lot?
Nay, though still bolder flights I dare,
For showers of gold I'll make my prayer:
Yes, yes, of gold
Let me get hold —
I'll undertake its care!

Mondor, rich neighbor, what a prize
That mistress is of thine!
Her wit how keen, how dark her eyes,
Her figure how divine!
I'll answer for it that she's true;
But what against her pride can do
Poor wretch's love, like mine?
Mondor, from thee to filch the fair,
For showers of gold I'll make my prayer:
Yes, yes, of gold
Let me get hold —
I'll undertake its care!

Sour in my gullet turns the wine
That scurvy landlords keep;
But if a banker at his board
Should pledge me pottle-deep,
" How much this fine white wine? " say I;
" Twelve hundred francs, " is the reply;
" Upon my word, that's cheap! "
Still in Champagne there's some to spare;
For showers of gold I'll make my prayer:
Yes, yes, of gold
Let me get hold —
I'll undertake its care!

Come friends, then, I invite you all,
Commencing from to-day;
If dull, you'll help to clean me out —
And that, the shortest way
Friends, income, equipage, estate,
And house — all, all to dissipate —
Just should we not be gay?
Ah, with a winding-up so rare,
For showers of gold I'll make my prayer:
Yes, yes, of gold
Let me get hold —
I'll undertake its care!