The life that I dreamed of was never to be,
For I with my tribe into bondage was sold;
And the sungleams and moongleams, your elf-gifts to me,
The miller transmutes into work-a-day gold.
What you mint for the miller will soon melt away;
It is earthy, and earthy good only it buys,
But the shekels you tost me are safe from decay;
They were coined of the sun and the moment that flies.
Break loose from your thralldom! ’Tis only a leap;