On Gold

B EAUTY'S a bawble, a trifle in price!
'Tis glass, or 'tis something as glaring;
But set it in gold — 'tis so wonderful nice,
That a prince should be proud in the wearing.

How feeble the transport when passion is gone!
How pall'd when the honey-moon's over!
When kissing — and cooing — and toying, are done,
'Tis Gold must enliven the lover.