A wonderful pearl of exceeding price, whose virtue shall not decay,
Whose light shall be as a spell to thee and a blessing on thy way.”
The lady glanced at the mirroring steel where her form of grace was seen,
Where her eyes shone clear, and her dark locks waved their clasping pearls between.
“Bring forth thy pearl of exceeding worth, thou traveler gray and old,—
And name the price of thy precious gem, and my page shall count thy gold.”
The cloud went off from the pilgrim’s brow, as a small and meager book,
Unchased with gold or gem of cost, from his folded robe he took.
“Here, lady fair, is the pearl of price, may it prove as such to thee!
Nay, keep thy gold, I ask it not, for the Word of God is free.”