Through all wide lands, and fain would spoil the whole
To heap crown-jewels at thine oak-tree’s bole.
“Seek no bright words!” a wiser spirit saith.
“Not such the sage can please: no seeker he!
The world came to him in his tower, and told
Secrets of might, unforced and loving-free;
Nor held he Fancy’s choice true gems and gold.
Kneel but and say:
One grateful here behold!
Of mine own treasure thou didst give the key!”