MY gentle Anne, whom heretofore, When I was young, and thou no more Than plaything for a nurse, I danced and fondled on my knee, A kitten both in size and glee! I thank thee for my purse. Gold pays the worth of all things here; But not of love:--that gem 's too dear For richest rogues to win it; I, therefore, as a proof of love, Esteem thy present far above The best things kept within it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNDER MY WINDOW by THOMAS WESTWOOD AEOLIAN HARP (1) by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM TO HIMSELF; AN ODE by ANACREON TO JOANNA, ON SENDING ME THE LEAF OF A FLOWER ... WORDSWORTH'S GARDEN by BERNARD BARTON IRREPARABLENESS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING OPEN THE DOOR TO ME, OH! by ROBERT BURNS FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 6 by THOMAS CAMPION DREAM OF PEACE by LILA B. CARHART TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. I KNOW THAT YOU ARE SELF-CONSCIOUS by EDWARD CARPENTER |