WHAT price, child, shall I pay for your bright eyes (How large a debt!) the light they shed on me? What for your cheeks, so red in their surprise, Your lips, your hands, your maiden gestures free, Your fair brows crowned with grave nobility, All the delight which in your presence lies, The words unsaid, the deeds which dare not be, The dreams undreamed, my meed of Paradise? —Nay, I can pay naught; your poor bankrupt I, Since gold may not nor frankincense nor myrrh Serve my account nor any gift of kings. Yet be my wealth yours, joys that fools deny, Knowledge of life, love, power as presbyter, The wit to teach youth's zeal to use its wings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON THE POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS OF THE HIGHLANDS OF SCOTLAND by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) THE THREE KINGS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW POSTHUMOUS by HENRY AUGUSTIN BEERS THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: DEDICATION TO EDWARD, LORD ZOUCH by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) PICTOR IGNOTUS by ROBERT BROWNING ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN BY LORD KNOWLES: SONG OF THREE VOICES by THOMAS CAMPION OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 2 by THOMAS CAMPION |