Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/157

Rh THE TREASURE-SEEKER.

weary days I suffered, 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 signed the scroll with blood.

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.

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.

And he wore a lustrous chaplet, And his eyes were full of thought,