A gem of the brightest, purest ray:
The gem was the human will divine;
The shrine was the homeliest human clay.
Self-glory—but hush! be the tale untold
To the pale ear thinned by yon plaster mould.
Shall the diamond gem lose her queenly worth,
Though pent in the dungeon of sandy stone?
Say, is gold less gold, though in vilest earth
For long years it has lurked unprized, unknown?
And the rose that blooms o’er the buried dead,