I, were the sun pure gold, would let it lie.
For tempting though it be, I shan’t forget:
The purse’s sport pays not one sunset sky.

Should ever this sweet luxury pass by,
And my life to a common girl’s reset,
I, were the sun pure gold, would let it lie.

Gold, gravely spent, may help the poor survive;
It keeps a belly full and settles fret.
The purse’s sport pays not one sunset sky.

As long as we can buy our bread and wine,
More riches shall not happiness beget.
I, were the sun pure gold, would let it lie.

We have God’s brilliant heavens, free to eye.
Each day is wealth; to life we are in debt.
The purse’s sport pays not one sunset sky.

Though gold may sparkle bright and silver shine,
The glory of the world is finer yet.
I, were the sun pure gold, would let it lie.
The purse’s sport pays not one sunset sky.