Oh yes, my pensive youth, abstain; And any empty sick sensation. Remember, anything like pain Is only your imagination. Trust me, I’ve read your German sage To far more purpose e’er than you did; You find it in his wisest page, Whom God deludes is well deluded. _Di._ Where are the great, whom thou would’st wish to praise thee? Where are the pure, whom thou would’st choose to love thee? Where are the brave, to stand supreme above thee, Whose high commands would cheer, whose chidings raise thee? Seek, seeker, in thyself; submit to find In the stones, bread, and life in the blank mind. (Written in London, standing in the Park, One evening in July, just before dark.) _Sp._ As I sat at the café, I said to myself, They may talk as they please about what they call pelf, They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking, But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking, How pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! How pleasant it is to have money. I sit at my table _en grand seigneur_, And when I have done, throw a crust to the poor; Not only the pleasure, one’s self, of good living, But also the pleasure of now and then giving. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money. It was but last winter I came up to town, But already I’m getting a little renown; I make new acquaintance where’er I appear; I am not too shy, and have nothing to fear. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money. I drive through the streets, and I care not a d——n; The people they stare, and they ask who I am; And if I should chance to run over a cad, I can pay for the damage if ever so bad. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money. We stroll to our box and look down on the pit, And if it weren’t low should be tempted to spit; We loll and we talk until people look up, And when it’s half over we go out to sup. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money. The best of the tables and the best of the fare— And as for the others, the devil may care; It isn’t our fault if they dare not afford To sup like a prince and be drunk as a lord. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money. We sit at our tables and tipple champagne; Ere one bottle goes, comes another again; The waiters they skip and they scuttle about, And the landlord attends us so civilly out. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money. It was but last winter I came up to town, But already I’m getting a little renown; I get to good houses without much ado, Am beginning to see the nobility too. So pleasant it is to have money, heigh ho! So pleasant it is to have money.