Classic Poem

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!