I wonder people should be left alive;
But since they are, that epoch is a bore:
Love lingers still, although 't were late to wive:
And as for other love, the illusion's o'er;
And Money, that most pure imagination,
Gleams only through the dawn of its creation.[613]
III.
O Gold! Why call we misers miserable?[614]
Theirs is the pleasure that can never pall;
Theirs is the best bower anchor, the chain cable