Alas For The Rarity Of Christian Charity

Fuss Is The Froth Of Business.

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright And Yellow, Hard And Cold!

Alas For The Rarity Of Christian Charity Under The Sun!

Oh Would I Were Dead Now, Or Up In My Bed Now, To Cover My Head Now, And Have A Good Cry!

I Remember, I Remember The Fir-trees Dark And High; I Used To Think Their Slender Tops Were Close Against The Sky; It Was A Childish Ignorance, But Now 't Is Little Joy To Know I'm Farther Off From Heaven Than When I Was A Boy.