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.