Dear solace of life, precious money I hail thee
Without thee would wit, wealth or beauty avail me
O friends, precious friends, what an ague would ail ye
If only my wisdom ye knew
Then friends let us raise
Of money the praise
For he who wants silver dross always wants you.
When hope is all shipwreck’d and care blows a hurricane
Brave stoic Wisdom may lend us her furry train
But Virtue and Beauty and flatt’rers will purr again
When our full purses we show
Then let us raise &c.