Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AVARICE, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT

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AVARICE, by            
First Line: And truly yesterday / I did suspect as much: away
Last Line: Midst monsters, thou must monster be.
Subject(s): Greed; Avarice; Cupidity

AND truly yesterday
I did suspect as much: away
Foule misgotten Elf,
Thou cheat'st thy silly self
In thinking I had any drift
To favor thee by praising Thrift.


Hence odious Avarice,
Thou mad & self-revenging Vice,
Who dost no toyl refuse
For that thou dar'st not use.
Thrift onely gathers, Thou dost scrape,
She to injoy, Thou but to keep.


Thou Jayler art, but She
The Steward of her gold: with thee
It rusts, with her it shines:
Nor do its deepest Mines
Smother & lock it up so fast
As the vast gulph of thy dark chest.


For that dark chest of thine
No pioner must hope to mine,
Since thy Necessitie
Cannot sufficient be
To digg thy treasure thence; so deep
Thou, to thy loss, thy gains dost keep.


Less doth the Thunders crack
Than news of petty Charges, wake
Thy wretched fears; & though
All thy religion's how
The best of money to possess,
Thy Money never current is.


Some Beast or other is
The embleme of each other Vice:
But never Brute was yet
So brutish as to get
The world a copie of foule Thee:
Midst Monsters, thou must Monster be.

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