Though countless as the grains of sand br That roll at Eurus' loud command; br Though countless as the lamps of night br That glad us with vicarious light; br Fair plenty, gracious queen, should pour br The blessings of a golden shower, br Not all the gifts of fate combin'd br Would ease the hunger of the mind, br But swallowing call the mighty store, br Rapacity would call for more; br For still where wishes most abound br Unquench'd the thirst of gain is found; br In vain the shining gifts are sent, br For none are rich without content.