And fit for glorious offices; and blest,
When put to uses holy. Oh, be sure
The curse is not on thee; for ’tis the hand
That toucheth thee doth thee with stains invest,
Or maketh thee beneficent and pure!
Calder Campbell.
That universal idol, Gold,
In homage all unites;
Without a temple, ’tis adored,
And has no hypocrites.