As he stepped 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 spell-words be,
Days of labour, nights of resting:
So shall peace return to thee!"
THE SPINNER.
As I calmly sat and span,
Toiling with all zeal,
Lo! a young and handsome man
Passed my spinning-wheel.
And he praised,—what harm was there?
Sweet the things he said—
Praised my flax-resembling hair,
And the even thread.
He with this was not content.
But must needs do more;
And in twain the thread was rent,
Though 'twas safe before.
