The speaker imagines readers of her songs sighing over her as a “poor, wistful soul” who must be lonely. But she knows they will never guess the truth: she carries a love that is surer than spring and stronger than the sea. Her sadness on the page is only the outside. Inside, she keeps this love hidden like a miser’s gold in forsaken fields where the wind is cold. The contrast matters—the world sees a bleak landscape, but the speaker possesses something precious there. The mood is quiet, secretive, a little proud, and bittersweet. Her loneliness is real, yet it guards a private treasure no one else can see, which makes the poem feel less like a complaint than a guarded confession.
The Treasure — Summary
When they see my songs They will sigh and say, "Poor soul, wistful soul, Lonely night and day."
They will never know All your love for me Surer than the spring, Stronger than the sea;
Hidden out of sight Like a miser's gold In forsaken fields Where the wind is cold.