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THE WAY OF THE WORLD.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

THERE is no chivalry in men to-day;

Vile just of gold throughout the world is king,

And by the coin's clear recoiling ring

We value all men do, and think, and say.

If we desire to tarry by the way,

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Or wander bondless on our fancy's wing,

Or woo, or wed, or sound ambition's spring,

The world, reproaching, asks us, "Will it pay?"

The throbbings of the heart, the mourner's tear,

The ready falsehood and the truth untold,

The doubts that sadden and the hopes that cheer, -

Each is but worth so many grains of gold:-

What will you give me for my sonnet here?

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