A miser would behold
The buried chest that held his prize,
A mass of glittering gold.
And then one night he waked to find
His treasure snatched away.
“O cruel fate! O most unkind!”
He howled in his dismay.
“Life might as well have struck me blind
Or downed me in the fray!”
While forth his lamentations poured,
A friend appraised the cost.
“You never would have spent your hoard,
So tell me, what is lost?”
“It’s true,” he said and scanned the hole
That once had held his store.
“Yes, yes it’s true, upon my soul,”
He laughed, and wept no more.