The Song of the Dollar

Image from Coinancials

THE SONG OF A DOLLAR.

I’m sovereign of the sea and land,
The haughty world I sway;
Kings, sages, beauty, grasp my hand,
Though, like themselves, but clay;
‘Tis not myself, I know, they prize,
So much as what I span,
The tide of commerce — woman’s eyes —
The carnal heart of man.

Go to the throne, and ask the crown
From whence its lustre came;
The muted saint, his jeweled gown —
The outcast in his shame;
The libertine, his victims, deeds,
The miser in his cell!
They’ll shout above the peal of creeds —
The Mighty Dollar’s spell!

Aye, go where all is might and pride,
Oppression, crime and wrong;
Thou it find me but a peerless bride,
Midst splendor, joy and song.
The trophies of the field and sea,
Sweet voices, sounding lyres,
A world of painted misery,
Heaved from ten thousand fires.

In every place where selfish mirth
O’er truth and virtue rolls,
Hell’s equipage, and where have birth
Pride’s ignominious souls;
An Idol worshipped ever, and
Shall undisputed be
The God adored, whilst mammon’s hand
Chains down humanity.

Then in my glory, demons, raise
Your requiem, and well
The tumultuous tide of jolly praise,
Throughout the realms of hell!
Leave heavenly visions — hope and love —
My slaves, the poor, and drown
The widows, orphan’s wail, with pearls,
The jingle of the crown.

Richland County Observer (Richland Center, Wisconsin) May 13, 1856

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