JEWELS

O! Gold I lack; I am a man

Who cannot give as others can;

No costly gems of value rare

Are mine to give, my Lady Fair!

Yet would I give, and of my best,

So delve the kingdom of mine eyes:

What say'st thou to a rope of pearls

Strung from the cirro-clouded skies?

A sunlit beck, just after rain,

Should from its ripples lend a chain

Of sparkling diamonds, very meet

To grace thy wrist, my Lady Sweet.

A peaty tarn, lost‘ mong the hills,

Of beryl tint should make a ring;

The moors should yield a coronet

Of amethyst, from summer ling.

Rubies? Already thou hast two!

They are the gems for which I sue.