html website builder

There's no invention underneath the sun
So basely counterfeited,
Its similes since first the world begun
Have half the race outwitted;
Like spurious coins in form and color true
Put into circulation,
These counterfeits are passing bright and new
Exact in imitation.


True love is like a coin, changeless and pure,
Bright from the mint of virtuous affection,
Whose solid worth lies in its gold secure
Stamped with the soul's reflection;
Though Time may mar with rude and hasty hands
Its brilliancy and beauty,
Its gold unspoiled beneath the surface stands
Alloyed with common duty.


False love is like the counterfeiter's coin,
A criminal deception,
Although a while its face like gold may shine
To close inspection,
Not long it needs the wear that must ensue
Its character to settle,
Its gilt departs and leaves exposed to view
Its worthless metal.


He who treads stealthily his secret dens
Of fraud and knavery dreaming,
For his own selfish, vicious, lawless ends
Another's ruin scheming,
He is the type, yet nobler is his art
Than his who makes to glitter
Base metal for the pure gold of the heart,
--Love's counterfeiter.