POEMS.
59
THE SONG OF THE PEARL-DIVER.
Down—down where the shipwrecked lies low in his grave,
With, o'er head, the wild chaunt of the bound-spurning wave;
Where alone is my footstep 'mid coral and shell,
And jewels that lighten up beauty so well;
Where kings dare not tread, 'mid the deep-hidden gem,
I go, in my hoard seeking riches for them!
Not for me the pale treasure—not mine is earth's pride—
The diver's so hardly-earned fame—what beside?
How much of the peace we must purchase with gold
Repays the poor man hours of anguish untold?
Away, scenes of grandeur! for me rise ye not!
I have wealth, as ye pride! wealth that perisheth not.
Ye have fortune's warm friends, and to me it is given
To stand with my Maker, alone, before heaven!
Oh! ye mighty of earth! 'neath your proud gilded dome,
Read ye e'er of God's might, as in my gem-decked home?
With, o'er head, the wild chaunt of the bound-spurning wave;
Where alone is my footstep 'mid coral and shell,
And jewels that lighten up beauty so well;
Where kings dare not tread, 'mid the deep-hidden gem,
I go, in my hoard seeking riches for them!
Not for me the pale treasure—not mine is earth's pride—
The diver's so hardly-earned fame—what beside?
How much of the peace we must purchase with gold
Repays the poor man hours of anguish untold?
Away, scenes of grandeur! for me rise ye not!
I have wealth, as ye pride! wealth that perisheth not.
Ye have fortune's warm friends, and to me it is given
To stand with my Maker, alone, before heaven!
Oh! ye mighty of earth! 'neath your proud gilded dome,
Read ye e'er of God's might, as in my gem-decked home?
