Your WEALTH burdens me poor,
Prithee me rich,
To sleep on thy satin decor -
Broken is my switch.

You sang your praises,
A different World -
With Wealth's crazes,
Under your wing I curled.

I know not of names,
To any of thy gems -
Colors of stricken dames,
Scarce of diadems.

May I meet the queen?
Her glory I must know;
She remains to be seen -
Under Wealth's woe.

Thy ring is on my hand -
And fear sits on my brow,
During the Wedding grand,
And who is happy now?

There are solaces to know,
When all that glitters is gold -
Along death's row,
O! - A marriage to behold!

Thy far treasure shall suffice,
With Wealth's spool -
Struck on a lady's vice,
While just a girl in school!