A fellow's greed inspires response.
Please halt at none's giver.

Abuse, outwit, abstract a renaissance-
Forge thou's own exalt, fill thou's quiver.

O You. .  . the wise and kind-
Hath no courage to claim realms dictated.

Sin! Tis' a sin of your mind!
But forewords have been slated.

May yellow riches fill smooth shells-
And truth belittle lies from false prophets.

Lay on your bounty, chime thou's bells-
See thy's truth shun false promise.