THE TREASURE

By Gilbert Parker

And now when from the shore goes out the ship

Wherein is set the treasure that I hold

Closer than miser all his hidden gold,

Dearer than wine Zeus carried to his lip;

My aching heart cries from its pent-up pain,—

“O Love, O Life, O more than life to me,

How can I live without the surety

Of thy sweet presence till we meet again!”

So like a wounded deer I came to thee,

The arrow of mischance piercing my side;

And through thy sorrow-healing ministry

I rose with strength, like giants in their pride.

But now — but now — how shall I stand alone,

Knowing the light, the hope of me is gone?