Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by One after one; the sound of rain, and bees Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky - I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie Sleepless.

A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great is passed away.

Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more.

The wealthiest man among us is the best

But who would force the soul tilts with a straw Against a champion cased in adamant