 | Poems |  |
THE TREASURE-FINDER.
“Wander forth into the sunshine—go thou, wander in the woodlands;
For the forest's haunts of greenness, leave the toiling town behind:
Here, O mortal, worn and wilder'd, thou art poorest of the poorest—
There, in leafy ease and stillness, lo! a treasure thou shalt find.”
For the forest's haunts of greenness, leave the toiling town behind:
Here, O mortal, worn and wilder'd, thou art poorest of the poorest—
There, in leafy ease and stillness, lo! a treasure thou shalt find.”
So in dreams the voice spake to him: and the sleeper, eager-hearted,
Woke, and from the dreary striving of the city took his way;
Breathing hopes in with the sunshine—hopes as golden as the morning,
With a light foot hastening onward—on, to where the treasure lay.
Woke, and from the dreary striving of the city took his way;
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With a light foot hastening onward—on, to where the treasure lay.
Ah! how want shall lie behind him! in the streets' loudclanging mazes,
He no more shall lack his station in the thronging haunts of men;
He, now vainly seeking burdens that his spirit groans not under,
Searching vainly, scorn'd and hunger'd, shall be served and honour'd then.
He no more shall lack his station in the thronging haunts of men;
He, now vainly seeking burdens that his spirit groans not under,
Searching vainly, scorn'd and hunger'd, shall be served and honour'd then.
Quicker beat his pulse, and quicker; ever pleasure swam before him,
As he near'd the forest's shadows, as beneath its leaves he laugh'd,
As his heart went bounding onward through its glooms and verdurous alleys,
As his soul, its calm and coolness, ever deeper, deeper quaff'd.
As he near'd the forest's shadows, as beneath its leaves he laugh'd,
As his heart went bounding onward through its glooms and verdurous alleys,
As his soul, its calm and coolness, ever deeper, deeper quaff'd.
On, through ferny dell and hollow—on, by oaken foliage shaded—
On, through sun-fleck'd paths he linger'd, with the woodbines tangled o'er;
Under beechen boughs reclining, lapp'd in odours, songs, and murmurs,
Spake the tongues of Nature through him, as they never spake before.
On, through sun-fleck'd paths he linger'd, with the woodbines tangled o'er;
Under beechen boughs reclining, lapp'd in odours, songs, and murmurs,
Spake the tongues of Nature through him, as they never spake before.
Swell'd they out in clearest music—swell'd in tones of murmuring sweetness,
Into harmonies transfusing all of beauty pour'd around;
Hues and odours, forms and shadows, sunny bursts of summer brightness,
All that ear and eye were drinking, pouring forth in measured sound.
Into harmonies transfusing all of beauty pour'd around;
Hues and odours, forms and shadows, sunny bursts of summer brightness,
All that ear and eye were drinking, pouring forth in measured sound.
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And the darkness of his spirit, to the glad tones of his singing,
Pass'd, as pass'd the gloom when David sang, from the dark soul of Saul;
Lo! a glory brightens round him—round him Heaven's own hymns are ringing;
From his kingly thought, Earth's bitter cares and weary burdens fall.
Pass'd, as pass'd the gloom when David sang, from the dark soul of Saul;
Lo! a glory brightens round him—round him Heaven's own hymns are ringing;
From his kingly thought, Earth's bitter cares and weary burdens fall.
Home returns he; home returning, how the world's keen scoffings meet him—
All the purse-proud scorn of riches—all the sneers of titled birth!
Ah! he brings a treasure back, that makes him heedless how they greet him;
Poor, despised, the Poet knows himself God-chosen great on earth.
All the purse-proud scorn of riches—all the sneers of titled birth!
Ah! he brings a treasure back, that makes him heedless how they greet him;
Poor, despised, the Poet knows himself God-chosen great on earth.
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