XII
Adieu. See how they fight! So has it been
Since the beginning, as if unaware
The panorama’s but a shifting scene,
And all its wonders only empty air.
Hear me, my friends. Believe me that I bear
No grudge against you, but would have you know,
For your own good, the lust of gold’s a snare.
The world’s no shop, but only a peepshow:
What’s seen or handled you surrender when you go.