THE GIFTS

There were three gifts at eventide the West Wind brought to me, That I might choose for joy or use my fate from out the three: “Now here is gold,” the West Wind saith, “and fair it is to see; Who chooseth gold hath power to hold; men serve him loyally.” “A prince he is,” the West Wind saith; “I know the hidden mine; Shalt lead thee now o’er fire and snow to where the ingots shine?” Nay then, who hath the yellow gold hath trouble at his back; Whose needs are few, whose heart is true, what knoweth he of lack? “But here is Love,” the West Wind saith, “the light of life is he; Wilt bid him now to bind thy brow with myrtle greenery? He sets the pace that young feet dance, and leads with lute and bow; Take thou his hand and through the land with him till curfew go.” Nay then, for he who seeketh Love finds but an empty nest; Love cometh still of his own will, unsought, and that is best. Then one spake up full loud and clear: “Now I am Work,” said he; “And they that hold not love nor gold have need of mine and me.” “Wilt follow, follow, where I lead?” his voice rang free and strong; “Here’s hope and cheer for all the year; here’s balm for every wrong.” Yea, I will turn and follow thee; thou speakest like a king;— “Then shalt thou see if true thou be, the other gifts I bring.”