Explore "The Treasure Digger" by Thomas James Wise on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O, would that with last and shoe I had stay'd, / Without wild desires; / And, ah! no trust in Satan had laid, / That prince of liars!
Each Saturday night, when slept the rest, / Away I stroll'd / To the forest, so murky and drear, in quest / Of buried gold.
And then I beheld the hopping fire glow / The briar behind; / And down to the earth my wishing-rod low / Itself declin'd.
I dug then, and gripped the chest's ring amain, / And held it stout; / But the copper deceitful burst in twain, / And the fiends laughed out.
Just, just as long was the treasure my own, / As I trembled with fright; / But soon as I held it secure, down, down / It sank from sight.
Ye devilish pack, what grin ye at? / I fell not your prey; / I'll trust no more in old women's chat, / And in cross-shaped way.
I go by my last and shoe to stay, / Without wild desires; / And ne'er more in Satan I trust will lay, / That prince of liars!