C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Menella Bute Smedley (1820–1877)
A Discovery
T
A jewel on the ground,
Under a silent weed,
A nameless glory set for none to heed.
“Stoop, see, and wonder!” was my joyful cry,
But still the languid world went only by.
They passed it still.
Some turned to look,
And said it was a pebble from the brook;
A dewdrop, only made to melt away;
A worthless mirror, with a bordered ray.
For nights and days.
“See with your eyes
A diamond shining only for the wise!
How is it that you love not at first sight
This unfamiliar treasure of pure light?”
The world drew near.
They knew the sign
And secret of my praise: the thing was mine.
They left it to me with a bland disdain,
And hugged their tinsel to their hearts again.
“You are not mad;
Let them go by:
We know it is a diamond, you and I.”
Coldly he answered, “If you love it so,
You need not me to praise it. Let me go.”
“That no man hears.
I’ll fling it down:
Some nobler hand shall set it in a crown.
I shall behold it honored ere I die;
But no one could have loved it more than I!”