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Poem by Thomas Hood
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold Molten, graven, hammered and rolled, Heavy to get and light to hold, Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold, Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled, Spurned by young, but hung by old To the verge of a church yard mold; Price of many a crime untold. Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Good or bad a thousand fold! How widely it agencies vary, To save - to ruin - to curse - to bless - As even its minted coins express: Now stamped with the image of Queen Bess, And now of a bloody Mary.
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