With thy true love I have more wealth Than Charon's piled-up bank doth hold; Where he makes kings lay down their crowns And lifelong misers leave their gold. Without thy love I've no more wealth Than seen upon that other shore; That cold, bare bank he rows them to -- Those kings and misers made so poor. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WENDELL PHILLIPS by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 92 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE GRAVE OF SHELLEY by OSCAR WILDE PSALM 73: INTRODUCTORY LINES by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ON CHLORIS BEING ILL by ROBERT BURNS THE KISS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SONG OF VICTORY, FOR THE DEATH OF GOLIATH by LUCRETIA MARIA DAVIDSON |