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...THRENODY FOR A BROWN GIRL by COUNTEE CULLEN A GIRL OF POMPEII by EDWARD SANDFORD MARTIN ADAM'S CURSE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS LONG LIVE LIFE by JACQUES BARON A STRANGER IN SEYTHOPOLIS by KATHARINE LEE BATES |