 | Ailes d'Alouette |  |
57
A DEDICATION
NOT of his treasures gives the sea,
Not gold or jewels to the land,
Nor of all precious things that he
Has ravished with his robber hand.
With worthless weeds he wreathes her o'er,
With shells unvalued lines the shore.
Not gold or jewels to the land,
Nor of all precious things that he
Has ravished with his robber hand.
With worthless weeds he wreathes her o'er,
With shells unvalued lines the shore.
Ev'n so his reverent love he shows
By giving not his costless pelf,
But that which of his being grows,
True gift it is to give of self.
For my poor gift let this atone:
I give thee what is most my own.
By giving not his costless pelf,
But that which of his being grows,
True gift it is to give of self.
For my poor gift let this atone:
I give thee what is most my own.
| Ailes d'Alouette | |