A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies.
On the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar.
Then, fare thee well, deceitful Maid!
So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice.
By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see For one who hath no friend, no brother there.