Inspects what's settled on posterity;
Pours out the pelf by rigid avarice pil'd,
To gain an empty title for his child.
In vain the pomp, in vain the gold,
Love cannot thus be bought and sold;
Such sordid motives he disdains,
Nor can be bound in Mammon's chains.
With cold contempt, disgust, and deadly hate,
The new-made wife regards her tawdry mate;
While he, Narcissus-like, with eager gaze,