With both self-interest is all. His phiz, you see, is almost human, Save that his look is of a demon; His face is ever earthward bent, As if on treasures there intent; His glance thence never turns astray Towards sunny sky or milky way; His usual gait is on all fours, Although his hands will open doors; You see they’re hooked like vulture’s claws, To clutch the gold through chinks and flaws; No lock of treasury can bar His entrance or his purpose mar; Whatever meets his greedy eyes, He seizes as his lawful prize; Filches the gold from out its bed, And “greenbacks” shuffles in its stead; (For he with caution still would steer, And honest ever would appear;) And, with the gold thus basely gotten, Sends arms to rebels for their cotton; And thus his honors cheaply wins, His loyal cloak hides all his sins! Friends, while small flies still feel our laws, Shall big ones burst through rents and flaws, And fall like Jove with golden shower, To rob the iron-bolted tower; Shall we from whom the gold was taken, Remain, like Israel’s sons, unshaken In our allegiance to the Devil, Well knowing that his deeds are evil? Like them, but not so wise by half; Theirs was a real golden-calf; Whilst we, oh shame and sad disgrace! Must of the calf assume the place; Not to be worshipped and caressed, (That were too good for such a beast;) No, but to give our gold away, And worship calves of brass and clay; Who still, the more that we adore, Our gold and worship claim the more; And look more brazen than before!