Ballade Of Worldly Wealth – Andrew Lang – Compass Songs

Money taketh town and wall,

Fort and ramp without a blow;

Money moves the merchants all,

While the tides shall ebb and flow;

Money maketh Evil show

Like the Good, and Truth like lies:

These alone can ne’er bestow

Youth, and health, and Paradise.

Money maketh festival,

Wine she buys, and beds can strow;

Round the necks of captains tall,

Money wins them chains to throw,

Marches soldiers to and fro,

Gaineth ladies with sweet eyes:

These alone can ne’er bestow

Youth, and health, and Paradise.

Money wins the priest his stall;

Money mitres buys, I trow,

Red hats for the Cardinal,

Abbeys for the novice low;

Money maketh sin as snow,

Place of penitence supplies:

These alone can ne’er bestow

 Compass Songs is an ongoing series of works by poets that I enjoy. Poetry, as the Zen Masters have said, is like a finger pointing to the moon. It speaks the unspeakable.

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