Thine hand must dig along, and mine thro’ jewels bright.
“This having done, thou wilt behold a cell
Of golden ingots, and large diamonds full;
And laid thereon, a wand of power, to quell
The might of magic and its spells annul;
No more I utter! if thine heart be dull
In its affections, or thy love untrue,
And seek those gay gems round about to cull,
Then thou thy daring enterprise wilt rue;
“But if thy soul be pure, then triumph waits on you.”