Classic Poem

The Golden worlde is past sayth some,
But nowe say I that worlde is come:
Now all things may for Golde be had,
For gayne of Golde, both good and bad.
Now honour hie for Golde is bought,
That earst of greater price was thought.
For Golde the Foole alofte doth rise,
And ofte is plaste aboue the wise.
For Golde the subtile shewe their skill,
For Golde the wicked winne their will.
For Golde who shunnes to wrest a wrong,
And make it seeme as right and strong?
Who spares to pleade as pleaseth thee,
If bring thou doe a golden fee?
The Fatherlesse is quyte forgot,
Where golden giftes doe fall to lot.
For Golde the Wyddow is opprest,
And rightfull heyres are dispossest.
Poore I RVS cause at dore doth stande,
If C RoeSVS come with Golde in hande.
What mischiefe may almost be thought,
That now for Golde not daylie wrought?
A heape of ylles for Golde are clokte,
Yea vice for Golde hath vertue chokte.
For gayne of Golde the Flatterer smyles,
And on thee fawnes with sundry wyles.
I will not here through golden traps,
Say Louers light in Ladies laps.
But briefe to bee, what can you craue,
That now for Golde you may not haue?
Then truth to tell, and not to fayne,
Right now the golden worlde doth raygne.

To have beheld is something — for I might
Alone with my Ideal have sought in vain
Through centuries of passionate absent pain
Along the sunbeam's path the casting light.
But I have found it! Though the end be night,
At least the fact of finding doth remain
Eternal, — that a lily without stain
Hath blossomed, that a woman hath been white.

To have beheld and loved! If nothing more,
Yet can there be a greater thing than this?
If I behold and love, what do I miss?
Am I within the shrine, or at the door?
Though heart be fainting, every fibre sore,
If I behold and love, I also kiss.