The dazzling earth is rich with easy thrones.
The corn is golden in the golden sun.
The amber day is set with blazing stones,
And yellow kingdoms waiting to be won.
The ruby cries,' My Lord, my lord return!'
The emerald is greener than the trees
Of Proserpine. The bursting sapphires burn
In searching brilliance on the burnished seas.
The hall is empty of its rightful lord,
That lord that sleeps, and hugs his rusty sword.
Could he but step upon these coral lands,
And hurl his polished spear but once, and hold
The shining realm, - within his jewelled hands
Would lie the jewelled stars, and gold , and gold!