Far better grasp the red-hot steel, than touch another’s gold;
The love of money, God hath said, of evil is the root,
And if dishonesty thence spring, destruction is the fruit.
I would not take what is not mine, though none were near to see,
Conscience would my accuser stand, and God my judge would be;
The covetous desire, the wicked thought I would control,—
What shall it profit man to gain the world, and lose his soul?
I would not take another’s goods,—the loser might repine,
His loss might heavy seem to him, but small compared to mine;
For oh! more precious far than all the wealth to nobles given,