But, there be other some beside, buyers and sellers in the temple,
Who shame their high vocation, greedy of inglorious gain;
There be, who fabricating books, heed of them meanly as of merchandise;
And seek nor use, nor truth, nor fame, but sell their minds for lucre:
O false brethren! ye wot indeed the labour, but are witless of the love;
O lying prophets, chilled in soul, unquickened by the life of inspiration!—
And there be, who, frivolous and vain, seek to make others foolish,
Snaring youth by loose sweet song, and age by selfish maxim;
Cleverly heartless, and wittily profane, they swell the river of corruption:
Brilliant satellites of sin,—my soul, be not found among their company.