| These times touch money’d Worldlings with dismay:;
Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air
With words of apprehension and despair:
While tens of thousands thinking on th’ affray,
Men unto whom sufficient for the say
And minds not stinted nor untilled are given,
Sound healthy children of the God of Heaven,
Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.
What do we gather hence but firmer faith
That every gift of noble origin
Is breathed upon by hope’s perpetual breath;
That virtue and the faculties within
Are vital,—and that riches are akin
To fear, to change, to cowardice and death.