I have a shop of lead and coal

And all that’s dark and cold

And day by day my only goal

Is somehow to make gold

I spend myself and mix and stir

New potions, formulas and brew

And every day I stand assured

I will make gold that’s true

I have no need for other’s aid

I will succeed in my own strength

By my own sweat it will be made 

There will be gold at length

The seasons pass, and years are spent

And hope grows thin, and all plans fold

And sobbing I at last consent

That I cannot make gold

I have naught but coal and lead

And all that’s dark and cold

Only the pure ore instead

Can ever become gold

Do you know where lies that vein

Where I might find that which is true?

For I can’t conjure one small strain

Nor, my friend, can you