LOVE’S OFFERING.
I have no rare jewels to give thee,
No diamonds, no pearls; and of gold
But one little circlet, as emblem
That love will thee ever enfold.
Thy home will be only a cottage,
And even the floors may be bare.
The furnishings be the most simple,
And frugal be also the fare.
The cottage will be by the brookside,
By willows so shady and cool.
Thy beauty will be e’er reflected
In mirror that is but a pool.
Thou wilt not be decked in fine linen;
E’en cotton may be all thy gowns.
But, love-words will e’er be my greeting,
And kisses take place of dark frowns.
My love is the most I can offer—
Will love cover up a bare floor?
Or will it fly out of the window,
If poverty enters at door?
I know that thy beauty would honor
A palace, instead of a cot.
That silks should be e’er thy adorning,
But happiness ne’er can be bought.
In palace there can be much sorrow,
’Neath jewels may be broken heart.—
Though clothed in the finest apparel,
All naked the wound, and the smart
That comes from a troth that is broken;
That comes from a love that is cold.
’Thout love, e’en a palace is dreary,
Though furnished with jewels, and gold.
Then, darling, take what I can offer—
My heart filled with love, and my home
A nest for my birdling, my sweetheart,
And never from thee will I roam.