The Jeweller

---

The Jeweller

Sonnet

From each day I mined a nugget of glittering gold,
Fruit of mind’s pick-axe thought ever hammering 
By many a old and new invented gesture’s round,
Drawing from each moment their buried meaning.

At the closing of dusk I gathered my sweaty gain,
And made way to severe offices of the Editor bright,
He surveyed and said, “Yet there is the dust of pain
And raw ore of desire that mars the soul by sight.

Renew thy labour in tomorrow’s repeating dawn,
I extend by a day the lease of thy human time,
Seek again the gold unalloyed, a victory yet unwon.”
I returned to my camp on Night’s calling chime,

Brooding over scheme and charter to be repeated,
To hammer by aspiration until the high seat is attained.