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  • Cetera desunt
    BY
    William Blake




    I rose up at the dawn of day


    I rose up at the dawn of day--
    `Get thee away! get thee away!
    Pray'st thou for riches? Away! away!
    This is the Throne of Mammon grey.'

    Said I: This, sure, is very odd;
    I took it to be the Throne of God.
    For everything besides I have:
    It is only for riches that I can crave.

    I have mental joy, and mental health,
    And mental friends, and mental wealth;
    I've a wife I love, and that loves me;
    I've all but riches bodily.

    I am in God's presence night and day,
    And He never turns His face away;
    The accuser of sins by my side doth stand,
    And he holds my money-bag in his hand.

    For my worldly things God makes him pay,
    And he'd pay for more if to him I would pray;
    And so you may do the worst you can do;
    Be assur'd, Mr. Devil, I won't pray to you.

    Then if for riches I must not pray,
    God knows, I little of prayers need say;
    So, as a church is known by its steeple,
    If I pray it must be for other people.

    He says, if I do not worship him for a God,
    I shall eat coarser food, and go worse shod;
    So, as I don't value such things as these,
    You must do, Mr. Devil, just as God please.

       
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