 | The poems (1969) |  |
3 The Gift
To Iris, in Bow-Street, Covent-Garden
579
Say, cruel Iris, pretty rake,
Dear mercenary beauty,
What annual offering shall I make,
Expressive of my duty?
Dear mercenary beauty,
What annual offering shall I make,
Expressive of my duty?
My heart, a victim to thine eyes,
Should I at once deliver,
Say, would the angry fair one prize
The gift, who slights the giver?
Should I at once deliver,
Say, would the angry fair one prize
The gift, who slights the giver?
A bill, a jewel, watch, or toy,
My rivals give—and let 'em.
If gems, or gold, impart a joy,
I'll give them—when I get 'em.
My rivals give—and let 'em.
If gems, or gold, impart a joy,
I'll give them—when I get 'em.
I'll give—but not the full-blown rose,
Or rose-bud more in fashion;
Such short-lived offerings but disclose
A transitory passion.
Or rose-bud more in fashion;
580
A transitory passion.
I'll give thee something yet unpaid,
Not less sincere than civil:
I'll give thee—Ah! too charming maid,
I'll give thee—To the devil.
Not less sincere than civil:
I'll give thee—Ah! too charming maid,
I'll give thee—To the devil.
| The poems (1969) | |