Classic Poem

I

Many weary days I suffer'd,
 Sick of heart and poor of purse;
Riches are the greatest blessing—
 Poverty the deepest curse!
Till at last to dig a treasure
 Forth I went into the wood—
‘Fiend! my soul is thine for ever!’
 And I sign'd the scroll with blood.

II

Then I drew the magic circles,
 Kindled the mysterious fire,
Placed the herbs and bones in order,
 Spoke the incantation dire.
And I sought the buried metal
 With a spell of mickle might—
Sought it as my master taught me;
 Black and stormy was the night.

III

And I saw a light appearing
 In the distance, like a star;
When the midnight hour was tolling,
 Came it waxing from afar:
Came it flashing, swift and sudden,
 As if fiery wine it were,
Flowing from an open chalice,
 Which a beauteous boy did bear.

IV

And he wore a lustrous chaplet,
 And his eyes were full of thought,
As he stepp'd into the circle
 With the radiance that he brought.
And he bade me taste the goblet;
 And I thought—‘It cannot be,
That this boy should be the bearer
 Of the Demon's gifts to me!’

V

‘Taste the draught of pure existence
 Sparkling in this golden urn,
And no more with baleful magic
 Shalt thou hitherward return.
Do not seek for treasures longer;
 Let thy future spellwords be,
Days of labour, nights of resting:
 So shall peace return to thee!’

I

Many weary days I suffer'd,
 Sick of heart and poor of purse;
Riches are the greatest blessing—
 Poverty the deepest curse!
Till at last to dig a treasure
 Forth I went into the wood—
‘Fiend! my soul is thine for ever!’
 And I sign'd the scroll with blood.

II

Then I drew the magic circles,
 Kindled the mysterious fire,
Placed the herbs and bones in order,
 Spoke the incantation dire.
And I sought the buried metal
 With a spell of mickle might—
Sought it as my master taught me;
 Black and stormy was the night.

III

And I saw a light appearing
 In the distance, like a star;
When the midnight hour was tolling,
 Came it waxing from afar:
Came it flashing, swift and sudden,
 As if fiery wine it were,
Flowing from an open chalice,
 Which a beauteous boy did bear.

IV

And he wore a lustrous chaplet,
 And his eyes were full of thought,
As he stepp'd into the circle
 With the radiance that he brought.
And he bade me taste the goblet;
 And I thought—‘It cannot be,
That this boy should be the bearer
 Of the Demon's gifts to me!’

V

‘Taste the draught of pure existence
 Sparkling in this golden urn,
And no more with baleful magic
 Shalt thou hitherward return.
Do not seek for treasures longer;
 Let thy future spellwords be,
Days of labour, nights of resting:
 So shall peace return to thee!’