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123

TRAFFIC

Life, the shrewd lapidary, is rich in wares
Whose worth our casual glances may decree;
And like perpetual purchasers are we,
Won by the bounteous opulence he airs.
Here shines a pearl of hope; here subtly glares
An emerald of revenge; here thrilled we see
A diamond of ambition; here may be
Some ruby of sin that lures us and ensnares.
Incessantly above this bright array,
As time flows on, we mortals flock to bend,
Till body and limbs turn frail, till brows grow grey,
Through trading, haggling, bartering without end—
While for the inexorable price we pay,
Months, years, even centuries, are the coins we spend.