But from dungeons where the pris’ners moan,
To Caesar’s high-exalted throne
’Tis gilt without, while the soul’s in need.
To us for wisdom should you come,
We’ll teach you all the tricks of trade.
Good Christians we, with church and Ikon;
All goods, even God, our own we’ve made.
But that house of yours
Still hurts our eyes;
If we didn’t give it,