And, right or wrong, accumulate,
Gold be your god—and wealth your fate!”
These seeds we’ve sown in genial soil,
And reap rebellion for our toil;
And wonder still, that o’er the ground
The reptile copperheads abound;
Some, satisfied to vegetate,
Like tares, ignobly in the State;
While some, whose venom waxen strong
Distorts the right, inflicts the wrong,