Stultifera Navis or, The Modern Ship of Fools [by S. W. H. Ireland] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. | SECTION XVI.
OF AVARICIOUS FOOLS. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
 | Stultifera Navis |  |
67
SECTION XVI. OF AVARICIOUS FOOLS.
Tam deest avaro quod habet, quam quod non habet.
Who is't that hugs his mental bane?
'Tis avarice , believe me;
Whose pleasure is his constant pain,
Thus may the mind deceive thee.
'Tis avarice , believe me;
Whose pleasure is his constant pain,
Thus may the mind deceive thee.
68
With doting eyes he counts his store,
But ah! his mind's not cheerful!
Now coveting one hundred more,
Of theft for ever fearful .
But ah! his mind's not cheerful!
Now coveting one hundred more,
Of theft for ever fearful .
What others give, what others spend,
What others too are hoarding,
Alike he covets to his end,
No joys his life affording.
What others too are hoarding,
Alike he covets to his end,
No joys his life affording.
He never feels that heavenly thrill,
From Charity soft flowing;
To mercy deaf, his selfish will,
On self alone bestowing.
From Charity soft flowing;
To mercy deaf, his selfish will,
On self alone bestowing.
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For gold he lives—for gold he sighs,
Yet, if disease assail him;
The wretch for want of comfort dies ,
Fearful his gold should fail him.
Yet, if disease assail him;
The wretch for want of comfort dies ,
Fearful his gold should fail him.
In life no friend, in death no tear,
Save that which flows from pleasure,
Is shed upon the miser's bier,
By those who share his treasure.
Save that which flows from pleasure,
Is shed upon the miser's bier,
By those who share his treasure.
L'ENVOY OF THE POET.
Gold is by Avarice misunderstood,In circulation all it's value's found;
When kept 'tis dross, productive of no good,
And, for man's peace, far better under ground.
THE POET'S CHORUS TO FOOLS.
Come, trim the boat, row on each Rara Avis,Crowds flock to man my Stultifera Navis.
The following lines from Gay's fable of the Miser and Plutus are well calculated to depict the baneful effects of gold.
Gold banish'd honour from the mind,
And only left the name behind,
Gold sow'd the world with ev'ry ill;
Gold taught the murd'rer's sword to kill.
Thus when the villain crams his chest,
Gold is the canker of the breast;
'Tis av'rice, insolence and pride,
And ev'ry shocking vice beside,
Or we may exclaim with Virgil, ------Quid non mortalia pectora cogis,
Auri sacra fames.
And only left the name behind,
Gold sow'd the world with ev'ry ill;
Gold taught the murd'rer's sword to kill.
Thus when the villain crams his chest,
Gold is the canker of the breast;
'Tis av'rice, insolence and pride,
And ev'ry shocking vice beside,
Or we may exclaim with Virgil, ------Quid non mortalia pectora cogis,
Auri sacra fames.
It is the extraordinary feature of avarice, to toil incessantly for the attainment of that, which, when procured, never affords it the smallest gratification, for we may say with Horace;
Quærit et inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti.
and in like manner is avarice incessantly punished for the
ills which it inflicts on others, for “In nullum avarus
bonus est, in se pessimus.” In Dodsley's collection is a
beautiful Fable of the Sparrow and the Diamond, well
calculated to display the extent of this vice; and the moral
of which is admirably adapted to the subject of the present
Section.
| Stultifera Navis | |