Here, where the sculptur'd marble rises high,
And golden letters tell the barefaced lie,
Old Miso rots; who almost from his birth,
Disgraced his nature, and encumber'd earth:
Mammon had early steel'd his scoundrel heart,
And the world's prudence furnish'd out her part.

He hid each meanness under candour's veil,
And bade hypocrisy his crimes conceal;
Each knavish art, and roguish trick he knew,
And was, though christian born, an arrant jew.
Thus, to acquire a plumb, did Miso toil,
Hell whilst he liv'd survey'd him with a smile;
And, when he died, the whole infernal crowd
Beheld the wicked fool, and laugh'd aloud.

Readers! with eyes indignant turn away,
And let your lives a virtuous course display;
Let no base views the heaven-sprung mind controul,
Nor damn for dirty gold the immortal soul;
If riches are your lot, be stewards kind!
And bear this maxim ever in your mind:

The lust of gold's the greatest earthly evil,
'Twill make a saint from heaven a very devil.