THE TREASURE-SEEKER by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE

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!'

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