Gold! gold! in all ages the curse of mankind,
Thy fetters are forged for the soul and the mind.
The limbs may be free as the wings of a bird,
And the mind be the slave of a look and a word.
To gain thee men barter, eternity's crown,
Yield honour, affection, and lasting renown.

Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical (1917)