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.