The youth is lost. Behold, on manhood's verge,
Our hero now. A market for his ware
He seeks at home in vain. There smallest coins
Supply the daily needs, and he must seek
A distant shore, and one to coin his wealth.
Undauntedly, despite unbroken paths,
Unheeding storms and floods, he presses on
To reach her side. An aged man stands guard,
And yet he marches up the walks unchecked.
His very boldness awes. A maiden there
Is pleased with what he brings, and from her heart
She gladly pays him golden coin therefor.
She mints her boughten wealth, and later on
They meet again. They ride the garden gate.
Proximity, free trade promote exchange.
She pays him back his own, each coin a kiss.
The market steady rules, demand is strong.
Supply exhaustless.‘ Tis called a fair exchange,
And yet they both are richer made thereby.