Such pure domestic raptures uncontrolled,
Such lavish use of old proverbial learning
Of ancient saws cast in a modern mould,
When measured by the crucial test of earning,
By market value, reckoned up in gold,
Never secured you, prophetess benign,
More than a bare five dollars to the line.
Tried by this test, I own, scant was the gleaning
Of Milton—just five “jingling tingling quid”
Paid for his Paradise; but then his meaning