I am the basis of all wealth, the heritage of the wise, the thrifty and the prudent.
I am the poor man’s joy and comfort, and the rich man’s prize, the right hand of capital, the silent partner of many thousands of successful men.
I am the solace of the widow, the comfort of old age, the cornerstone of security against misfortune and want. I am handed down to children through generations, as a thing of great worth.
I am the choicest fruit of toil, Credit respects me. Yet I am humble. I stand before every man bidding him to know me for what I am, and possess me.
I grow and increase in value through countless days. Though I seem dormant, my worth increases, never failing, never ceasing. Time is my aid and population heaps up my gain.
Fire and the elements I defy, for they cannot destroy me.
My possessor learn to believe in me; invariably they become envied. While all things wither and decay, I survive. The centuries find me younger, increasing in my strength.
I am the foundation of Banks, the producer of food and the basis of all wealth throughout the world.
Yet I am so common that thousands, unthinking and unknowing, pass me by.