 | The Poems of Selwyn Image |  |
23
THE INSCRIPTION
Had I but wealth, had I but fame,
What prize were either joy to me;
Save at the shrine of thy dear Name
They each should dedicated be?
So I might lay
The gold, the crown of bay,
To find acceptance there of thee.
What prize were either joy to me;
Save at the shrine of thy dear Name
They each should dedicated be?
So I might lay
The gold, the crown of bay,
To find acceptance there of thee.
Dearest, I have nor wealth, nor crown;
Nor aught, save my fond verse, to bring
For off'ring! Say, thou wilt not frown,
Disdainful of so poor a thing!
Oh! do not scorn
This, of thy sweetness born,
A heart thou hast inspired to sing!
Nor aught, save my fond verse, to bring
For off'ring! Say, thou wilt not frown,
Disdainful of so poor a thing!
Oh! do not scorn
This, of thy sweetness born,
A heart thou hast inspired to sing!
| The Poems of Selwyn Image | |