Of what utility are the rich,
If they are clouds of August,
And do not rain upon any one;
Or the foundation os the sun,
And do not give light to anyone;
Or are mounted on the steed of power,
And never make a charge;
Advance not on foot in the service of God;
Bestow not a direm without weighing it and distressing you;
Watch over their wealth drudgingly,
And leave it grudgingly?
And the sages have said, that the silver of the miser comes up from the ground at the same moment that he himself goes down into the ground. One brings his money within his grasp anxiously and laboriously, and another comes and carries it away quietly and painlessly.