"No fear!"--Bourse Echoes answer me--"_no_ fear!"
Italy is hard up, her bare Exchequer
Forebodes financial ruin to her realm.
We many-dollared Syndicates rule all.
We rule the hearts of Ministers--we rule
With a despotic sway ambitious minds;
We are omnipotent. Shall pallid stones
Contend for power with us?--shall antique fame,
Or mere word-wizardry of old renown,
Match the gold-magic that encircles _us_,
"Rings," "Corners," "Syndicates"? Ridiculous!
Not all the mysteries that hang upon
Old Edax Rerum like a wizard's garment,
May match that Master-Mage--the Almighty Dollar!!
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