That gold is good

That gold is good

That gold is good
Which in the furnace sings..
That love is sweet
Which blooms
In a heap of sufferings..
A lover's game does triumph
With all its pump..
Afrustrated life is nothing
But an all forgotten gipsy camp...
All can't be sought
Though I am to speak a lot..
Life is hateful
When it turns
Into an elfin grunt...