The Awakening of The Miser
The wind was high,
The window shakes;
With sudden start,
The Miser wakes!
Along the silent room he stalks;
Looks back, and trembles as he walks!
Each lock and every bolt he tries,
In every creek and corner pries;
Then opens his chest with treasure stored,
And stands in rapture o'er his hoard:
But now with sudden qualms possest,
He wrings his hands, he beats his breast.
By conscience stung he wildly stares;
Thus his guilty soul declares.
Had the deep earth her stores confin'd,
The heart had known sweet peace of mind,
But virtue's sold!
Good heavens! what price
Can recompense the pangs of vice?
O bane of gold! seducing cheat!
Can man, weak man, thy pow'r defeat?
Gold banished honour from the mind,
And only left the name behind;
Gold sow'd the world with every ill;
Gold taught the murderer's sword to kill:
'Twas gold instructed coward hearts
In treachery's more pernicious arts.
Who can recount the mischiefs o'er?
Virtue resides on earth no more!
Austin's Chironomia, in Charles H. Spurgeon: Lectures To My Students.